The AfterMath
by Syncopated Heartbeat
Summary: And so the Dreamer and his BadAssed Babe defeat the evil Killer Queen and go on to live happily ever after, as the greatest rock'n'roll heroes of all time...right? Maybe not...
1. Awkward

Hey everybody...

You know I really should get to working on my other WWRY stories, but I've been working on this by hand for a long time (since I was banned from the computer for about 2 months), and really wanted to get it out of my system. Sooo...here it is...

Oh, and just in case you didn't know, I do **NOT** own We Will Rock You, no matter how much I wish I did. Maybe then, I'd own Erica. And that would be flipping fabulous.

* * *

"Scaramouche!"

For a second, I thought I'd heard wrong, but then, there it was again, a second time, "Scaramouche!"

No, I'd definitely heard right. It couldn't be for me though. Nobody called me by that name anymore. As a matter of fact, it had been two years since anybody had called me that. No, it couldn't possibly be me they were calling. All the same, I turned around, just in case, half-hoping I was wrong.

I scanned the crowd around me, and my eyes grew huge as I focused in on the figure running towards me, "Oh Jaysus."

"Oh…hi…wow…well…it's been a while, hasn't it, Scaramouche?" sputtered the one, the only, Galileo Figaro. Magnifico, of course.

"Yeah, it has," I said quietly.

We just stared at each other in silence for a bit. What could you say to someone you hadn't seen in years? Someone you'd left, not knowing how they really felt about you? Someone you'd never even said good-bye to?

"Well, this is awkward," I put my hands on my hips.

"I guess you're right," he smiled sheepishly.

I smiled back, and then added, "You haven't changed a bit, you know." It was true. He was still the same Galileo I'd known: almost too-innocent, deep brown eyes, lop-sided, shy smile, muscled arms, shaggy hair, and a worn leather jacket.

"True, but you have," he replied, "A lot." That was true too. The purple hair he'd known and loved was gone, in favor of shoulder-length, gingery waves – my "real" hair. I didn't wear a third of the make-up I once had, only a touch of mascara and lip-gloss now. The loose white shirt, with the top buttons undone and the sleeves pushed up, and the jeans I was wearing that day were a far cry from the array of crazy Bohemian costumes I'd loved to indulge in.

"How'd you recognize me then?" I asked.

"Easy," he answered, "Your walk, and the way you talk."

"The way I talk?" I raised an eyebrow.

"Yeah, I realized when you were asking somebody the time," he grinned mischievously, "It's that same way of talking like you own the world."

Before I could answer him, someone bumped into me, sending me flying into his arms.

"Stupid kids," he muttered grumpily, as he walked past, "Blocking streets and causing traffic."

I looked up at Galileo, still holding me up, "Who pissed in _his_ Cornflakes this morning?" We both laughed. For just a second, it seemed like everything was okay again, and that things were the way they once were. Just for a second though, because then I remembered how things had become, and I backed away from him briskly.

"Do you want to go somewhere else to talk?" he offered, "So we don't 'cause traffic' anymore?"

"I'd like to, but I have somewhere I have to be in an hour," I replied.

"Oh," he looked disappointed, then perked up a little as he said, "Well, what about meeting up another time? Friday afternoon maybe?"

"Sure, we could go to…" but I stopped myself in mid-sentence. I was about to say the Heartbreak Hotel, but we couldn't go there. Too many unresolved issues…too many familiar faces…too many painful memories. I didn't want to go there ever again.

Galileo could still read me like an open book, because he picked up right where I left off, "Your place. So I could see where you're at right now."

"Of course," I smiled gratefully.

"Well," he swallowed, "Nice running into you, Scaramouche."

"You too, Galileo," I nodded.

He lifted his arms tentatively, as though to give me a hug. When I didn't respond, he lowered them, looking crest-fallen. He walked off looking thoroughly disappointed. In all honesty though, what else could he have expected from me?


	2. Hopeful

Ello darlings,

First off, thank you for all the lovely reviews. )

**Skaramooshy:** lmao A guitar without its strings! I love that analogy!

**Loulouluvswwry:** lmao Well you'll find out why she's batting for the other team, probably next chapter, or the one after, I think, but I hope you like this one anyway.

**Beccaj-ilh:** Yehh...I like Scaramouche & Figgy together (doesn't everyone?), but I could see them splitting up, and I could see Scaramouche walking out, so I wanted to take the idea for a spin. lmao

Secondly, ZOMFG, in Toronto, they're having a Sing-Along/Dress up as a Bohemian for a Night show! I must go!

Thirdly, I still don't own We Will Rock You...it's a shame!

* * *

"She wants to see me!" I flopped onto the worn red armchair gleefully, "Can you believe it? She wants to see me!"

"Well congratulations, Figgy, my dear," Oz sat down across from me, crossing her legs.

"Oz, things are going to go back to the way they should be," I smiled, looking at her, but imagining Scaramouche instead.

"She told you so?" she cocked her head, twirling a strand of blond hair around her index finger.

"Well," I swallowed, "No, not exactly…but she says she'll see me…at her 'place'."

"That's a start," she nodded, "But I'm not as convinced as you are about things going back to the way they were."

"Why not?" I frowned.

"You said it yourself, she's different," she paused, contemplating her choice of words, "She's not the same Scaramouche you knew anymore. Who says she wants to come back? Who says she really wants anything to do with you now? She could have just been acting polite when she said she'd see you."

"Scaramouche? Polite? Don't you remember the story of her and Charms School?" I snorted.

Oz nodded, a smile tugging at the corners of her lips, "Of course…she got kicked out within 2 hours, for having told one of the previous year's debutantes, 'I'll dye my hair purple, green, or any other goddamn color I want to, so piss off, you douche.'"

"Exactly! Can you imagine that girl ever doing something for the sake of being polite?"

"No…but that's not the point. Galileo, stop beating around the bush!"

"Oz, you know how much she hates being referred to as 'Scary Bush'."

"Not that bush!"

"Then what bush?"

"You know what I mean," she ran her tongue across her teeth, "Look, she's changed, and you know it. What you don't know is how much, and in what ways. She could have gone and burned all her guitars, for all you know."

"No," I cried, my eyes widening, "She would never do that; she loves her guitars!"

"It was just an example," she sighed and ran a hand through her mane of blond hair and pink garbage, which she liked to call, "accessories", "All I'm trying to say is that it's been a while. I don't want you getting your hopes up, thinking she's the same girl you knew, and then, when you realize that you're wrong, having your heart broken. Again."

"I'm not getting my hopes up," I protested, "It's just…Scaramouche wouldn't do something, just to adhere to someone else's wishes. She doesn't 'roll like that'…it's too sweet…and selfless."

"Well you're nice," Oz smirked.

"You know it's true," I replied simply, and then continued, "And since it is true, she must have her own reasons for having me over."

"So you're just assuming they're the same as yours for wanting to go?" she raised a pierced eyebrow at me.

"It's just that…how many other reasons could she possibly have?" I asked.

"Scaramouche is very…complicated; you know that," she replied, "Who knows what's going on in that purple head of hers?"

"It's not purple anymore."

"What?" her eyes widened.

"And her hair's not long like before either."

"So if it's not long and purple, what _is_ it?"

"It's wavy, it barely touches her shoulders, and it's a light auburn color," I sighed, "It's what her hair is like 'naturally', but I've never seen anything more unnatural in my life. It's not…"

"Not Scaramouche at all," she finished my sentence, her nose wrinkled in distaste.

"I know," I nodded.

"Which only further proves my point, Galileo," she said, folding her arms across her chest, "She's not the same girl you fell in love with; she's different, so different, even her trademark hair is gone."

"I saw that," I answered curtly.

"Sure, but can you understand it?" she asked.

"Oz, why do you have to be so pessimistic about this?" I frowned.

She pursed her lips and then answered, "I'm not being pessimistic, Galileo, I'm being realistic. You think I don't want her to come back and stay with us again? You're not the only one who loved her. She was my best friend, and I miss her as much as you do. It's been two years though, and we've all changed. I won't believe she's coming home until she's walked through the front door, with her bags in her hands. Got it?"

"Got it," I said quietly.

"Good!"

She was silent for a second, until she said softly, "Try to bring her back though, won't you, Galileo?"

"You know I will."


	3. Cold

Hello my dearsss,

I'm very happy to say that:

1.) I finally have another chapter of this story! And I'm working on another one too. ;

2.) I have an insanely wonderful beta reader who's a sweetheart, and who's helpful X 167. J'aime CrimsonSuspense beaucoup.

3.) I have 3 days of school before 2 1/2 weeks of Spring Break. Thank Jesus! Let's hope school is cancelled tomorrow for a snow day though, yes?

4.) I'll be eagerly awaiting your reviews. ; You know I love them. lmao

I'm not so happy to say that:

I do **not** own WWRY. Pity.

xxxx 3

* * *

"Just a few hours, Babe, and it's all over," I murmured to myself, pulling my cuffs down, so only the tips of my fingers could be seen. That meant I was nervous. Damn. This couldn't go the way I wanted it to if I was nervous. Godammit, get a grip, girl. I looked myself over in the mirror: gingery waves pulled sweetly away from my face with a purple ribbon, the only relic of my Bohemian days, a bright blue, slouchy, off-the-shoulder sweatshirt, a short white skirt, and long, vibrantly-coloured beaded necklaces. I wouldn't have been caught dead wearing this a few years earlier. It was absolutely perfect now. 

I sighed and walked over to my bed, covered in piles of papers: bills, letters, forms…boring stuff. I pushed over a stack of letters, the top one being from my mother, (God help me!), making room for myself to sit down. I breathed deeply, in and out, watching my stomach puff out and contract with every inhalation.

In a few minutes he would be here. Galileo Figaro would be in my apartment, sitting on my couch, drinking out of my glass…in my life again. Why had I agreed to this?

"Calm down," I told myself, "This is what you want. This is what you need. Closure. Finally. It'll just be a couple hours. He'll come, you'll talk, you'll smile and show him you've moved on, that you don't need him, and then he'll smile and leave. You'll say good-bye and he'll be gone. For good."

In. Out. Expand. Contract.

And then I jumped, sending dozens of papers flying, when I heard someone knock at the door. It was him.

"Breathe, Scaramouche, breathe," I murmured. Dammit. Stupid Galileo. He came back and so did that _stupid_ name of his. I had always hated it. Sort of.

I walked over to the door and opened it. Lo and behold, Galileo Figaro.

"Hey," I said weakly.

He didn't answer, just stared at me. As weird as it was to have him gawking at me like that, I appreciated the time to take in the sight of him. He really hadn't changed at all…he was still so beautiful it made me feel dizzy just looking at him. I stared at his arms - muscled, tanned, and on display in his sleeveless black t-shirt, with his jacket slung over his shoulder – for just a second before turning away.

"Are you planning on coming in, or was the plan to just come and gape at me a little bit?" I raised my eyebrows at him.

He blushed, "Sorry."

"Don't apologize; just come in!" I answered, crossing my arms tightly against my chest, "It's freezing out and a draft is getting in with you just standing there like that!"

His blush deepened further as he came in.

"Would you mind taking your shoes off?" I asked, closing the door behind him.

He looked at me, slightly baffled.

"Your shoes," I repeated, gesturing towards the neat rack in my entrance, with shoes stacked on the various shelves, "Could you take them off? I don't like to have dirt trekked in."

"Okay…" he nodded, taking off this brown work-boots and putting them in the shelf.

"What's that weird look for?" I frowned.

"I just wouldn't have thought that you would have really cared," he wrung his hands, "About dirt, I mean."

"Ah," I nodded. There was an awkward silence where he just looked at me thoughtfully before I said, "Let's go?"

"Lead the way," he shrugged.

"Well, this is a first," I smirked, "Galileo Figaro letting a_ chick_ 'lead the way'." I watched him blush with a certain amount of satisfaction.

"Maybe I've changed since the last time you saw me," he offered as he followed me to my living room.

"Maybe you should have changed earlier," I retorted.

"Maybe then you would have stuck around longer," he replied, looking around.

"Maybe," I said curtly, not wanting to push the topic any further. Then, in an attempt to change the subject, I tried, "Here we are…those are real antique couches, by the way. From the times of… um…Pelvis." Dear Lord. I wasn't trying to impress him, was I?

He nodded towards the red floral couches I'd pointed at, "Real antiques then?"

I nodded.

"I guess I shouldn't sit on them or anything then," he said, almost timidly, "Since you're scared of dirt and all."

"No, go on, sit," I shook my head, "Make yourself comfortable."

"Don't mind if I do," he replied, a smile starting to play on the corners of his lips. Hands jammed in his pockets, in classic Galileo fashion, he strode over to the sofa and settled himself down. I almost giggled at the awkward way in which he slowly bent his knees and lowered himself onto the seat, but stopped myself right before.

Instead, I cleared my throat, "Do you want a drink or anything?"

"No thank you," he smirked, "I've learnt that a level head is necessary when dealing with you."

I couldn't contain my laughter that time, "Smart boy…I, however, am craving a nice gin and tonic…more gin, less tonic."

"Fine by me," he replied with a little shrug, and a small, shy grin.

I came back a few minutes later, drink in hand, to find Galileo peering over the sofa's arm at a bunch of framed photos on my coffee table.

"What are you looking at?" I narrowed my eyes at him.

He jumped, and the photo he was holding fell onto the table with a loud "clunk". His eyes widened as he stammered, "N-n-nothing."

"Of course," I rolled my eyes with a sigh. There would be time to find out later…not that it mattered. I didn't really care, after all. Why should I?

I sat down next to him, "So tell me, Galileo Figaro, what have you been up to in the past few years?"

He smiled at me, "Taking down Globalsoft bases, spreading the music… same stuff I always did."

"Aha," I nodded, taking a sip of my drink, "Hero stuff."

"If that's what you want to call it," he shrugged.

"Same old, same old then," I murmured.

"Same old, same old," he affirmed. Looking at me, almost shyly, he added, "Only it's a lot less fun than when you were around to do it with."

"I'm sure," I pursed my lips, looking away from him. I couldn't stand staring into those great dark eyes of his. They were so sweet and innocent. They made me feel guilty, and guilty was another thing I couldn't be feeling if I wanted this meeting to go the way I wanted it to go. The way it needed to go.

"So…" he said tentatively, "What about you?"

"What about me?"

"What have you been up to, Scaramouche?"

Now was as good a time as ever to break it to him.

"Actually, Galileo, it's not…" I cleared my throat as he looked at me curiously, "Well it's not Scaramouche anymore."

"It's not?" he asked, looking injured.

"No, it's not," I shook my head, "I don't use that anymore. Now it's…"

"Sally! You here?"

Dammit.


	4. Disappointed

Hey there darlings

It's me again! Thank you all for the wonderful reviews; you're actually all too sweet. lmao You know who else is sweet though? My beta reader! I still (heart) CrimsonSuspense.

For the record, I hate Abs of Steel.

Again: I do **not** own We Will Rock You, and it's one of the saddest tragedies I've ever known in my whole life.

See you later, luvs.

xxxx 3

* * *

Abs of Steel. That's who was standing in the doorway. At least, that's what I'd immediately christened him, since I had no idea who this…thug…was. He was bold, brawny and huge… at least 6',4", broad-shouldered, muscled to boot… He looked like he could crush me with his right fist if he wanted to; which he probably would, considering he looked like the King of the Clones. 

"Sally?" he asked, his brow knitted in a look of confusion, "Who's this?"

Scaramouche bit her lip. Her cool, calm, collected façade was evidently starting to crumble. Standing up, she said, "Baby, meet Galileo Figaro. He's an old friend of mine."

Friend? Baby? Who was this guy?

Abs of Steel narrowed his eyes at me. They were that same stormy grey only found on someone self-assured, cold, and cruel. They belonged to someone that could, with just a look, send shivers down your spine. Someone like Commander Khashoggi, for example. I shuddered.

"Galileo Figaro? Like the Dreamer?" he asked, somehow managing to frown while he spoke.

I nodded.

He chuckled, a cocky grin starting to spread across his face, "Must get a little annoying, that whole Dreamer thing, huh?"

I nodded again, and admitted, "Sometimes it gets to be a little much; I just want to be left alone."

He wrinkled his forehead, "I didn't mean _that_…it's the dreams, you know. It must be frustrating, hearing all those 'voices' in your head, not knowing what they mean, and all. You must feel pretty stupid."

I was starting to like this guy less and less. Rapidly.

The tension in the room was so thick you could cut it with a knife. Scaramouche made a funny little sound then, sort of like clearing her throat, but squeaky, and said, "I haven't introduced you to Galileo yet." She walked over to Abs of Steel, her colourful beaded necklaces jingling as they bounced against each other.

Seeing her standing next to him, it occurred to me how _small_ she was. It was funny. In the five years we'd been together, she'd never seemed little, and it wasn't entirely to do with the fact that she'd loved to wear big, clunky, high-heeled boots. She used to have a way about her of making herself seem important, despite her stature, like she was completely in control. Even though she was barely 5,1", you knew, just by looking at her, not to mess with Miss Mouche. Now though, she seemed like an innocent little girl. The thug's arm was coiled protectively around her waist, and she was holding onto him like she'd fall if he weren't there to support her. Her expression was soft…demure, even. I didn't know what to make of it.

Finally, she spoke, "Galileo, this is Daniel…"

"Daniel Forrester," he cut her off, flashing a grin at me.

In the old days, Scaramouche would have bit his head off for daring to interrupt her. This time, all she did was smile and nod, and attempt to finish her sentence, "He's my…"

Again, Abs of Steel couldn't seem to let her get a full sentence in. He interrupted her, again, smiling genuinely for the first time yet, "Her fiancé."

My jaw dropped, and as it did, so did my gaze, straight to Scaramouche's left-hand ring-finger. _How_ had I not noticed the _rock_ on her finger? It was actually huge…quite appropriate, when you think about who had given it to her. But…Scaramouche…marrying him? No. No, no, no, no, no. It couldn't be. This guy was cocky, arrogant, evidently controlling and chauvinistic…not to mention all brawn, no brains. How could she have fallen for him, of all people? He was someone she would have hated. And then, as I gawked at him, it dawned on me.

_He was everything I wasn't._

"Galileo," Scaramouche's voice brought me back to Earth, "Are you okay?"

"Yeah," I nodded slowly, my voice hoarse, "Well, umm, congratulations, then."

"Thanks," he answered for the both of them.

"How long have you two…" I trailed off. I couldn't finish the sentence.

"Known each other?" he grinned, his white teeth flashing, "Eight months. Been engaged? Only two."

"Sounds like things moved…fast," I managed to sputter. Oh, god. What had happened to her? The beautiful, outgoing, authoritarian, Figgy-you-can-clear-up-the-mess, don't-touch-my-axe-or-I'll-_**murder**_-you girl…. was gone. This was a hollow shell, a shadow of a girl, an empty space left when the creativity and beauty had been sucked out. She was still beautiful though. I couldn't deny that. But in a different way; one that was, but wasn't her, at the same time.

"Well," he cocked his head, assuming an air of superiority, "When you're in love…oh, you know how it is." He looked me over appraisingly and added, "Then again, one shouldn't assume. Maybe you don't."

"No, I understand," I mumbled, glancing at Scaramouche, who was conveniently staring down at the floor.

"Well, I must dash," he declared after a pause. To me, he said, "Nice meeting you…Figalo, was it?"

I didn't bother correcting him.

To her, he murmured, "You know I've got that thing tonight, with work, so…", as he slipped his other arm around her waist, so she was facing him. I suddenly felt like I was intruding on something very intimate.

"I know," she replied, fiddling with his shirt collar.

"I'm sorry," he offered, kissing her forehead. Prick.

"It's okay," she smiled.

"Bye, babe," he kissed her again. When he pulled away, I could've sworn she glanced at me before she pulled him back and kissed him, harder.

He was about to leave then, but stopped in his tracks and whispered, though not so quietly that I couldn't hear, "Be careful with your 'friend' over there…he seems a little weird."

When he left, she turned towards me again, and looked as though she were about to approach me, but decided against it.

"You might've mentioned you were getting married," I raised an eyebrow at her.

"I didn't think it was worth mentioning," she shrugged.

I cleared my throat, stalling for time, while she stared at me expectantly, "There's something I want to ask you."

"Shoot," she replied, finally deciding to re-join me on the sofa.

"Why did you go back to Sally…your old name?" I said softly.

"Isn't it obvious?" she asked.

"Evidently not," I smiled wryly.

"Galileo, Scaramouche was your name for me. _You_ gave it to me," she paused to cross her legs, "With you out of my life, that name had no place anymore. I couldn't possibly use it anymore…so I went back to the only other name I knew."

"Oh…" I looked away from her, blushing a little. I shifted in my seat a little, before saying, "I have another question, Scara…Sally." This would take some getting used to…but it was what she wanted, I realized sadly.

"Go for it," she shrugged.

I stared right into her wide green eyes for a second. I'd known those eyes so well once…but now, without their signature eyeliner (worrisome), and that unaffected, distant look (even more worrisome!), they were almost unrecognizable. Still gazing into those bright eyes, I asked quietly, "Why'd you leave?"


	5. Reverted

Ello darlingsss,

Again, thank you very, very much to everybody who's reviewed (and read; you guys are awesome too), and, of course, to my lovely beta reader, CrimsonSuspense. You're all wonderful...and you know what else is wonderful?

**That the Toronto Cast of WWRY might be going on a National Tour! **

Eeeeeeee...that made my day:)

See you laterrrr. Oh, and I still don't own WWRY.

xxxx 3

* * *

"Why did I leave?" I repeated, fiddling with my engagement ring. It really was quite big… 

He nodded.

"Galileo, I…well…you," I paused to take a deep breath, "Galileo, you_know_ why I left."

"No, I don't," he answered slowly, shaking his head, "I have ideas why, but I don't know for sure. You never said good-bye, never even left a note…remember?"

Ouch. I knew I deserved that one, though.

"Fair enough," I ran my tongue across my teeth.

"So are you going to tell me?" he raised an eyebrow at me.

"Fine," I nodded, turning to stare him straight in the eye. I swallowed, trying to stay as stoic as possible…but it was hard, especially with him looking at me so sweetly, - and as much as I hoped I could chalk this bit up to an over-active imagination- so much like he still loved me. "I left because of you."

"Me?" he stared at me incredulously.

"You heard me," I replied.

"What…but…why?" he asked, his eyebrows knitted together in confusion.

"Galileo Figaro, I was sick and tired of being in a three-way relationship: you, me, and the music…and I was always the one losing out," I snapped, "It was always about saving another city, making another breakthrough, writing another song, taking down Globalsoft, one fucking base at a time." I watched his eyebrows rise at the unusually strong language, coming from a girl who looked like me. "You were never home, and I was never allowed to come with you on your 'missions'. 'Oh baby, you'll get hurt…Scaramouche, you know I'm only doing this because I love you.' Bull _shit_!"

"Oh…" he nodded, biting his lip.

"Damn straight! 'Oh!'" I spat. Something was telling me not to go on, but I couldn't help myself. If I was going to get rid of him, I had to do this, and I wasn't sure I'd be able to if I stopped myself now. I inhaled and started again, "And every time you _were_ home, you treated me like a possession, like what I thought didn't matter. You were the Dreamer and I was your chick, and therefore you were in charge. You made decisions for me, saying they were 'for my own good', and I was sick of it. Sick of you and your pompous, chauvinistic attitude."

"So you went and got yourself engaged to someone even more 'pompous and chauvinistic'…and a Gaga at that," he retorted, "Smooth move."

"There's no such thing as a Gaga anymore," I shot back, "You got rid of that term during your conquests."

"Not officially, but they're still out there. You know that as well as I do," he scowled, "And your 'fiancé' over there is most definitely a Gaga."

"He is not," I crossed my arms firmly over my chest.

"Is too," he smiled humourlessly. "And what's more: you are too."

"Shut up," I bristled, suddenly self-conscious. I pulled my legs up onto the couch, hugging my knees close to myself, almost to hide myself up. Humph. Fat chance.

"Tell me, Miss Sally, what does Daniel Forrester have that's so special?" he asked bitterly, "What's he done for you that I never did?"

"For one thing, at least _he_ asked me to marry him," I growled, my eyes flashing, "Five years together, you never asked, you never mentioned it, never hinted at it. What? Did you think I'd wait forever?"

Suddenly he seemed sad, embarrassed even. He shoved his hands back into his pockets, and mumbled, "I didn't know you wanted me to. I guess I just never thought you were into that kind of stuff… I always though that didn't matter to you, so long as we were together."

"You'd have known if you'd have asked," I answered bluntly. Figgy, _why_ didn't you ask?

He stared at his shoes then, in silence. He seemed so defeated… I felt a pang in my chest suddenly. I had this strong desire to give him a hug, but I couldn't bring myself to.

Finally, he looked up at me miserably and asked, "Do you love him?"

"What?" my eyes widened.

"Do you love him?" he asked, his voice shaky.

"I hardly think that's any of your business," I answered coldly.

"Why are you with him?"

"Stop it."

"Tell me, please. What is it about him that makes you want him?"

"Like I said, that's not your business."

He stood up and strode towards the table with the pictures he'd been looking at earlier. He picked up a photo in a gold ornamental frame and shook his head, "Just tell me one thing about him that makes you want him."

"One thing?" I repeated.

He nodded, putting the photo down, "Just one."

"He's safe," I said softly.

"Safe?" he cocked his head at me thoughtfully.

I whispered, "Galileo, he can give me a sense of security that you can't. Never could. Never can. With Daniel, I don't have to be watching my back all the time; I don't have to worry. I can just _live_. No matter how much you might want to, you can't protect me like that. You can't make me not have to hide anymore, not like he can."

"I understand," he nodded.

"You do?" I looked at him. He understood. Closure! Finally! I should have been happy. For some reason though, I wasn't; I was just scared. I felt a knot in my throat when I realized that this might be the last time I would ever see him. I stood up and joined him, suddenly wanting to touch him more than anything else.

"Yeah, I understand," he stuck his tongue in his cheek, his signature sign of frustration and anger, and hissed, "You, the Queen of Risks and Spontaneity, are suddenly scared, so you've retreated. Oh, I get it alright; you've become a coward, gone soft."

And suddenly, that desire to hold him was gone. I still wanted to touch him…though only to smack him around a bit. Alright, a _**lot. **_Why did he have to be such a _jerk_?

"I'm asking you again," he looked at me firmly, "Do you love him?"

"I'm telling you again," I replied angrily, "Butt out."

"If you love him half as much as you pretend to, then this question should be no problem," he answered, holding his ground, "Do you love him?"

"Why do you care?"

"Do you?"

"Shut up, Galileo!"

"Tell me!"

"Why are you doing this?" I cried, my voice cracking. I looked at him desperately, "Stop, _please_."

"No!" he grabbed hold of my shoulders, "I'm asking one last time. Do you love him?"

"Galileo!" I pulled away from him, raised a hand to slap him, and froze. I closed my eyes, and murmured, so softly he almost couldn't hear, "Galileo…"

Instead of smacking him, I found myself putting my hand to his cheek. I shook my head; that knot in my throat was coming back. I grabbed onto his shirt with both hands and pulled him down into a kiss. My hands found themselves moving up his body, around his neck, gripping fistfuls of his hair.

"I love you," he murmured, "I really love you."

"I know," I whispered, and kissed him again, and again, slowly losing track of what was happening, and who my fiancé was, and why this was actually happening. All that mattered was here and now, and the way his lips felt against mine…

He gently pushed me onto the sofa, kissing me harder. I ran my hands up and down his back, and he groaned, letting his head fall back.

When he did, though, he must have moved something else, because I heard a crash, and the sound of glass shattering. I sat up quickly and looked over his shoulder, looking for what had fallen.

One of the pictures.

He turned his head and blushed when he noticed it on the floor, "Sorry…I can clean it up if you want."

"No, don't worry about it," I shook my head.

He frowned, but I leaned over and kissed him softly, "Seriously, don't worry."

All the same, I thought it best to gently guide him towards my bedroom instead…there wasn't as much to break in there…

"Miss Sally, you _are_ crazy," he whispered into my ear as I pulled him on top of me, onto my bed.

"I am, aren't I?" I giggled as he kissed me along my collarbone. I frowned at him suddenly, realizing something wasn't right. Straightening up a little, I added, "But please, Baby, call me Scaramouche."

"Whatever you want," he kissed my forehead, grinning. "Scaramouche."

I laughed again and wrapped my arms around his chest. I buried my face in his neck and just breathed in deeply while he kept kissing me, my neck, my ears, my shoulders, anywhere, everywhere.

"I've missed you," I murmured, "A lot."

"I don't need to tell you how much I've missed you," he replied, his voice husky, slipping his hands underneath my over-sized blue sweatshirt. I didn't object though, as he moved his warm, steady hands higher, and higher up, until…

"Jaysus!" I gasped.

"Too much?" he asked, studying my face thoughtfully.

"No, not too much," I shook my head, "Just surprising."

I didn't protest as he leaned towards me and kissed me again, or as he pulled my sweater off, over my head, and tossed it aside. I didn't even protest as he started fiddling with my bra clip. He, on the other hand, wasn't so sure.

"Are you sure about this, Scaramouche?" he asked quietly, nuzzling my neck gently.

"Completely," I nodded, resting my cheek against his shoulder.

"What about Abs of Steel?"

"Who?" my head perked up.

"Your fiancé…what's-his-name…" he explained, starting to blush a little.

I giggled and planted a kiss on his lips, "Screw him."

He grinned. "Rather screw you."

"Get on with it then, mate."

He obliged. Jaysus _Christ_, did he ever oblige...


	6. Degraded

Hello my lovelies :)

Now, you're probably wondering why in God's name Miss Mouche would ever in a million years fall for a guy like Abs of Steel, right? Right. So I figured I should enlighten you all with what I'm calling:

**Abs: The Saga**

Okay, I'm not really calling it that. It's an interim. We're stopping the story right where we were, with Miss Mouche giving into Figaro, and taking a break. In said break, we're getting the dirt on what happened after she left the Heartbreak, and how she came to be engaged to Abs of Steel. Does that make sense, sort of?

So, note, this doesn't come **after** last chapter. Okay:)

By the way, I hope you'll all fall in love with Abs by the end of these interim chapters. I know I have...and so have a couple other people actually...

Before we start, I'd like to add that I still don't own WWRY. Abs, on the other hand, is mine. I'd also like to add that I love my Beta, CrimsonSuspense, and all the reviewers. But a lot CrimsonSuspense...and sundrynotes actually, for helping me bitch about Abs. :)

I'd love to hear what you all think after this.

xxxx 3

* * *

When I'd first left, I hadn't meant to change so much. There, I admit it; I'd changed, and quite a bit, at that. Because of my initial attempts to stay Bohemian, the only place I found a job was at a bar, as a waitress. It was what would have once been called a "tooters bar", I think… 

"_So, do I get the job?" I asked, hands planted firmly on my hips._

_Sam stuck his tongue in his cheek, considering the situation, as he stood up from his desk chair. He walked around me in a circle, taking in every aspect of me. His huge, brown, muscular arms were folded across his chest, as his dark eyes looked me up and down appraisingly, pausing to have a better look at what I knew were my breasts. A grin spread across as his face, "Yeah, you got the job."_

_"When do I start?"_

_"Tonight…15$ an hour, to start off with…and whatever you make in tips," he added, "Oh, and you'll have to wear a uniform."_

_"A uniform?" I raised my eyebrows at him, "As in a tacky, poly-blend duo of trousers and a polo-shirt?"_

_"Not exactly," he walked over to the closet in his office, which I'd assumed was for his coats or something…apparently not. I blinked at the array of…interesting costumes. He looked at me, smirking, "Take your pick…shoes too."_

_I peered into the closet, and pulled out a dress, "You want me to wear __**this**__?"_

_He looked at the short leather dress and nodded, "You could pull it off."_

_I wrinkled my nose._

_"Do you want the job or not?"_

_As much as I hated the idea of prancing around a bar wearing one of his monstrosities, I liked the sound of "15$ an hour, plus tips". Needless to say, I needed this job. Everywhere else had turned me down, saying I was too "radical"…whatever that meant._

_"Fine," I sighed._

_A half-hour later, I found myself teetering on heels, deemed mandatory, since I was so short, and outfitted in the black leather dress, whose hemline I'd have preferred lower, and neckline preferred higher. I tugged at the neckline a little, trying to cover my chest a little more._

_Sam noticed and frowned, "They're your best assets, Missy."_

_"You can see my bra," I said flatly. Missy? God, if I didn't need this job so badly…._

_"That's how you make tips," he replied simply._

_I blew my bangs out of my eyes, "And another thing…these heels…can't I wear something with more…support?"_

_"What were you thinking?"_

_"Boots."_

_"Stiletto boots?"_

_"Combat boots," I growled._

_"Not a chance," he chuckled, "I told you, you're short, and you're curvy." Dickhead. "You need the heels to make you look taller and slimmer."_

_"I'm going to fall over," I said through gritted teeth._

_"Practice walking in the heels at home," he stepped towards me, "Then you won't fall." _

_He sighed then, "And what did I tell you about your hair?"_

"_It'll get in their food."_

"_That's not what I said."_

"_But that's what'll happen, and then they'll call the health department."_

"_Are you kidding?" he snorted, "They know better than that. So take out the bloody ponytail, once and for all."_

"_Fine," I spat, untying my hair and shaking it out, "Happy?" I stuck the ribbon in my pocket._

"_Yeah," he grinned, "And remind me, what do you do if they touch you?"_

_I rolled my eyes, "I know, I know… I must remember the customer is always in the right. So, I smile and tell them they're being naughty…unless their hand goes up my skirt. Then I politely, albeit coquettishly, ask them to remove it…big boy."_

"_Nice touch," he approved, "Now get out there."_

_That night, when I got changed after my shift, I found myself ready to quit. I'd fallen over four times, trying to walk in those stupid heels, to the sound of men hooting and whistling. I'd managed to mess up eight orders in four hours, and had been forgiven each time, but only after more smiling than any normal human being would do in a week. I'd been groped by countless men, and had to use the polite, albeit coquettish tone, at least three times. That being said, I was set in my mind that I was going to talk to Sam and tell him it just wasn't going to work out._

_That was until I counted my tips. _

_37.75$_

_In tips._

_Excluding the 20 that somebody stuffed in my bra when I bent a little too low over the table as I took his order._

_I'd made 110.75$ that night. _

_So when I had my coat on, ready to go home for the night, and Sam asked me, "Will we be seeing you tomorrow night?"_

_...I nodded._


	7. Love Struck

Helloooo my darlings :)

A few things to tell youuuu...

Firstly, Abs of Steel is about to make his appearance here, so watch for him, yes? Also, I realized that I love my reviewers incredibly much. However, I don't show my appreciation. Erego, anybody who reviews from here on, I'm either going to respond to via PM, or by doing "shout-outs" in the next chapter, okay? Okay. I'm sososososo sorry I haven't been doing that so much... Next, someone asked me for a picture reference of Abs, and I didn't have one. However, I have found a suitable one...if anyone's interested... http://innerjoejoe [dot files [dot wordpress [dot com/2007/07/jamesmarsden [dot jpg

(Only since FanFiction doesn't believe in putting in url's, you have to replace every "[dot" with a period symbol. lmao Tell me if it doesn't work.)

Thank you all again, especially CrimsonSuspense, who's a wonderful, wonderful X 167 Beta, and sundrynotes, who helps me get all my frustrations about Abs out, whenever he gets a little too nice. ;)

Still don't own WWRY. My birthday's in 2 months though, so...

xxxx 3

* * *

Slowly, I got used to it at Sam's. I'd been making more money than I'd hoped, and I could actually afford my apartment. Okay, it wasn't exactly a luxurious suite of an apartment, but it was something. I could eat there, and sleep there, so it was fine by me. 

Besides, it wasn't so bad at the bar anyway… after you'd adjusted to the heels, and Sam's dirty sense of humor. It helped when you realized you should get to work at least half an hour before your shift started, not just to change, but to make sure you got a half-decent dress. Thing also got exponentially better once you learnt how to sort out which guys you needed to ask to piss off, and which ones you wanted to flirt with…because some of the guys there… Let's just say they were a little more than pretty cute, and a lot more than willing.

_I looked in the mirror once more before heading out into the jungle of drunken men. I shook my hair out, attempting to add a little more volume to it and found myself ready to go._

_When I went to see Sam to ask him where I should start, he greeted me with a frown and a, "We have to talk."_

"_What do you mean?" I asked. Shit. I hoped I hadn't done anything wrong in the past few days. Let's see…I hadn't told anyone off…hadn't screwed up any orders…hadn't even fallen over…_

"_Let me give it to you straight out," he ran a hand through his dark hair. Looking over my shoulder at a customer, he smiled, "She'll be with you in a minute; just have a seat for now."_

_To me, he said, "You have to stop fucking the customers."_

"_What?" my eyes widened. He was __**not**__ serious._

"_You heard me." Okay, so he was serious._

"_What the hell?"_

"_I know you've been doing it; I'm not blind. I see you flirting with them. I see them waiting for you outside until your shift is over, and I see you going home with them. Then you come in the next day looking exhausted, but exhilarated. After that, they specifically ask for you, and you brush them off. They never come back here again. The end," he scowled at me._

_I blushed and bit my lip, unsure of how to answer._

"_You have to stop doing that," he said, his tone serious, "We've lost customers because of it. You're getting a reputation, and it's giving __**me**__ a reputation. I can't have that."_

"_It's none of your business what I do on my own time," I snapped._

"_It is if it's affecting my bar," he shot back. He sighed, and shook his head, "Look…please take it easy, will you?"_

"_Sexy and sassy, that's your motto," I clicked my tongue, "Remember?"_

"_I never mentioned slutty."_

"_In these uniforms, you can't exactly expect anything else," I tossed my hair and turned on heel, "We have customers to serve."_

_That night was a particularly terrible one. There were all kinds of middle-aged men trying to cop a feel of whatever they could. They were practically raping me with their eyes. I'd actually had to ask Sam to kick someone out because he wouldn't stop hitting on me, which he'd done, though begrudgingly; he was still mad at me. The final straw was when I felt something sliding up my thigh for what had to be the twentieth time that night._

"_Don't __**touch**__ me, you asshole!" I hissed, turning around and smacking whoever it was._

_A stunned, though really gorgeous guy, was staring at me, his grey eyes wide, as he had his coat half-on._

"_I…didn't…I was putting my coat on…and…sorry…I didn't mean to," he stammered._

"_Jaysus Christ," I bit my lip. The one time I went and blew up at a customer, it had to be an innocent one, who touched me by accident. The one damn time._

"_I'm so sorry," I blurted out, my cheeks flushing, "Please don't tell my boss; he's already pissed with me, and he's going to fire me, for sure. I'm really, really sorry." _

"_It's…it's cool," he nodded, starting to recover. A smile starting to tug on the corner of his lips, he told me, "Don't worry."_

"_Seriously?" I stared at him incredulously. Wow. This was a miracle. Any other customer I'd ever served in here would have either demanded "compensation" in the form of sexual favors, or would have gone straight to Sam._

"_You're actually my hero," I sighed in relief. Feeling for the wallet strapped to my garter, I offered, "You want my tips for the night?"_

_He laughed, "No, you don't have to."_

"_Seriously," I insisted, "I owe you."_

"_No you don't," he shook his head._

_I looked him over for a second. He was actually gorgeous. Even though he was sitting down, I knew he had to be pretty tall. He was muscled all over, with dark hair, just a little longer than what most people thought was fashionable, that fell in his eyes…oh God…his eyes! They were piercing…that kind of grey that guys hate, but girls find really…sexy…the kind that send shivers up your spine. What's more is he looked like a nice guy, a normal guy…a guy that should not be in a place like this…_

"_Are you sure?" I asked him._

"_Positive," he nodded standing up. _

_I was right; he was tall…really tall._

_He put on his coat, and started walking away. He stopped in his tracks and turned to look at me once more, "Don't get into anymore trouble though, okay?"_

"_Okay," I nodded, my voice hardly louder than a whisper._

_He grinned at me, a real smile that went all the way up to his eyes. I melted a little right then. _

_But then, he walked away, out of my life, and I was brought back to reality by the sound of an impatient customer crowing that he wanted his food. I sighed and my nice little moment was gone. I went back to work._

_I was the last one out that night. Sam had left early…something about his brother…and since the other girls were in a hurry, I offered to close up. So, when I walked out and saw a dark figure sitting on the front steps, with his back to me, my heart almost stopped. I did what any other girl would do: I shrieked._

_Figure turned around, though I still couldn't make any of him out. All I knew was that he was big. "It's okay. Relax…it's me."_

"_Wonderful, 'it's me'," I managed to say, between gasps of air, "There are only millions of people in this city alone to whom that could apply to."_

_Figure chuckled and walked closer to me, "Now do you know who I am?"_

_As he walked into neon glow of the bar's lights, my heart almost stopped…for the second time that night. It looked like, one way or another, I would indubitably end up in the cardiac arrest ward. I nodded at the gorgeous guy I'd smacked two hours earlier._

"_I thought about what you said earlier, and I figured you were right," he jammed his hands in his coat pockets, "You did owe me."_

"_Okay," I nodded again, amazed he was here, "What do I owe you?"_

"_I'm not sure yet," he admitted._

_I couldn't help but smirk, "Don't tell me you waited out here all this time and you couldn't think of anything?"_

"_I thought of a few things," he replied, getting even closer…so close I could make out the rings of blue in his stormy eyes, "But I wasn't sure which to choose. I thought maybe I should talk to you, get to know you a little better, before deciding. How does that sound to you?"_

"_Sounds fine," I said, stupefied. Then, idiot me asked him, "Do you want to sit down…your feet could get tired."_

"_Sure," he shrugged, sitting back down on the steps, "You can sit too you know. I wouldn't fancy standing around in those heels all night."_

"_I don't either," I replied, sitting next to him._

"_So why do you?" he looked at me curiously._

"_It's part of the job," I shrugged._

"_Do you particularly __**like**__ this job?" he cocked his head at me._

"_No," I admitted._

"_Then why do you work here?" he asked, and then added, "Sorry if that's a little too blunt for you."_

"_Not at all," I replied. With a sigh, I looked up at the dark sky, dotted with little white stars, "I need this job."_

"_Why?"_

"_It pays."_

"_Job, noun, a place where you work in order to get money," he answered back, mimicking the tone of a stuffy librarian, "Therefore, any job would pay."_

_I snorted, "True, but no other job would have me."_

"_How come?" he asked._

"_I'm too 'radical', apparently," I leaned forward, hugging my legs in a feeble attempt to stay warm. I knew I should have bought that warmer coat. I looked at him and grinned, "What do you think?"_

"_I think you're freezing," he grinned back, "And that you should consider letting me lend you my coat."_

"_Sure," I laughed, allowing him to drape his thick, tweed coat over my shoulders. I noticed it smelled insanely good…sort of musky, woodsy, piney…sort of like Galileo. I froze for a second. _

_No, no, no. Get out of my head, Figaro. I shook my head, dismissing the thought._

"_You okay?"_

"_Yeah…so what's your name?" I tried to change the subject._

"_Daniel…what about you?_

"_Sally," I answered without thinking. Why had I answered that? I never used that anymore…_

"_Sally…" he studied my face carefully._

"_What's wrong?" I wrinkled my nose._

"_You just don't look like a Sally, that's all," he said, wringing his hands. _

_I laughed. He had no idea how right he was. _

_We kept talking for God-knows-how-long, and for the first time in months, it felt like I wasn't struggling to keep a conversation going. He made me smile…and those eyes of his. Jaysus…_

"_You're funny, you know that," he murmured, running his thumb across my collarbone, resting it in the space just above where my breasts started. I shivered, even though I was exactly cold anymore. My heart started thumping so hard I was scared he could hear it…which made it thump even harder. He leaned over then and kissed me, and I swear to God, I thought I had died and gone to heaven. I slid my hands around his neck, and twisted strands of his hair around my fingers, and oh God…_

_I pulled away from him, gasping for air. He laughed at me, and kissed the hollow between where my shoulder became my neck, "I'm not sleeping with you, you know."_

"_What?" I should have been insulted, or at least annoyed by that, but I wasn't._

"_I might want to, and I might want to really badly, but I won't," he said softly._

"_Why not?" Seriously, who was this guy, where did he come from, and where had he been all my life? Half the guys at the bar slept with me just for the hell of it, hardly even wanting to at all, much less wanted to "really badly". _

"_I heard your boss getting mad at you."_

"_Shit. You were the customer he told to have a seat?"_

"_Don't worry about it."_

"_Shit," I repeated, "Well that's not embarrassing at all."_

"_I told you not to worry about it," he answered between kisses._

"_It's still embarrassing," I mumbled._

"_You're cute when you blush, so it's all good," he replied._

_I shook my head, "Do you have an answer to everything?"_

"_I try," he grinned. I tried to kiss him again, but he wouldn't let me._

"_I told you I wouldn't sleep with you."_

"_I'm not asking you to sleep with me. I'm asking you to kiss me."_

"_I'm going to end up sleeping with you if I do."_

"_Whatever."_

"_I don't want to get you in trouble," he said earnestly. I laughed. This guy was really something else._

_He stood up then, and offered me a hand up, "Let's go home."_

_I accepted._

"_You want me to bring you home?" he asked._

"_What makes you think I haven't got my own methods of transportation?" I raised an eyebrow at him as we started walking._

"_You need this job, remember? I doubt you have the latest hovercraft. Am I right?" he asked._

"_Yeah…" I answered, blushing again._

"_So do you want a lift?" he offered again._

_I thought about it for a second, and then remembered where I lived._

"_No."_

_He looked at me strangely, and then shook his head. _

"_Good night then."_

"_Will I see you again?" _

"_Do you want to?"_

_I nodded._

"_Then yes," he leaned over and kissed me again, "Good night, Sally." _


	8. Concerned

Hello deariessss :)

And again some more about Abs of Steel. Thank you for the sweet reviews, thank you to the beta reader (CrimsonSupsense is lurveee), and of course to sundrynotes, my beloved Abs-bitcher. I still don't own WWRY. Pity me. And you, because you don't own it either.

A little more on these Abs chapters...they're a lot about him & Scaramouche, but sort of...every one of the chapters is another step she takes to losing her Bohemian-ness. Does that make sense to you?

xxxx 3

* * *

He started coming to see me pretty often after that, at least a few times a week. He'd never come in though; he said he hated it in there…and he hated seeing me working in there. I'd just come out after my shifts and he'd be there, standing on the front porch, or sitting on the steps, waiting for me. He'd never tell me how long he'd been there though, and I'd never ask. We'd sit, and talk, walk around a little, maybe go get something to eat…nothing special…nothing amazing, in theory. In practice, well that's a different story. 

Then one day, he decided to drop a bomb on me. Boom.

"_Sally?" he broke away from me in the middle of a kiss._

"_What's wrong?" I studied his face carefully. _

"_I don't want to beat around the bush here, so I'll come straight out and ask you," he said, his voice serious. He cleared his throat, evidently stalling for time, even though he didn't want to "beat around the bush". If he'd been a Bohemian, he'd have got a slap for either the bush reference, or the stalling for time._

"_I want you to move in with me."_

"_What?" my jaw dropped. Literally._

"_I want you to come live with me," he repeated._

"_Why?" I stared at him incredulously._

_He sighed, "I know where you live…"_

"_Oh that's a great start," I interrupted him, my tone highly sarcastic, "You don't sound like stalker at all."_

"_Will you let me finish?" he asked._

_I made a face at him, and then pretended to lock my mouth and throw away the key._

_"This sounds really bad, but…well…after you never let me bring you home, and you never invited me over, and you never told me where you lived…I got curious," he paused to drive his heel into the dirt, "So one night, I followed you home."_

_I coughed, trying to stifle a giggle. He frowned at me._

_"Sorry," I mumbled, "Go on."_

_"Why didn't you tell me? Baby…that place is disgusting!" he shook his head, "I'd be less worried if you told me you lived in the back room here at Sam's."_

_"Don't push it," I scowled._

_"Fine, but you get what I mean," he looked at me, pleading, "I hate the idea of you living there. That's why I want you to move in with me."_

_I ran my tongue across my teeth, "Look, let's just say I __**want**__ to move in at your place, I can't. I'm not letting you pay for the rent on your own, and I don't think you live in a very…inexpensive…apartment. I could never afford the rent there, or even half of it."_

_"How much are you paying now?"_

_"550$ a month," I answered quietly. It really wasn't much these days, so I really wasn't getting much. But, it didn't have any holes in the roof, so it was good enough._

_"Pay me half that," he replied._

_"What?" I wrinkled my nose._

_"Well, let's just say my rent is the same as yours…" he began_

_"Which it's __**not**__," I cut him off._

_"Let's just __**say**__ it is…" he shot back, not missing a beat, "Since we're two people paying it, then we're two people sharing it, so you only pay half what you're paying now, so if you think about it logically…." He kissed my nose, and tucked a stray strand of hair behind my ear. "You're not actually paying that much."_

_"You're crazy," I giggled._

_"Fucking crazy," he affirmed, leaning over to kiss me, "So what do you say?"_

_I sighed and played with my cuffs, "I say: even if I agreed to that, I'd still only be able to move in with you in four months. My landlord wants that much warning…something about 'sufficient advisement'…"_

_"That doesn't matter," he said simply._

_"What do you mean, 'it doesn't matter'?" I frowned, "Baby, you know I don't' have that kind of money."_

_"Well, she doesn't really care if you're in there, does she? I mean, all she really wants is the money, right?" he asked._

"_Where are you going with this?" I narrowed my eyes at him._

_"I'll pay the four months' rent," he said._

_I just stared at him in amazement, "What are you, my rich benevolent uncle?"_

_"Am I even old enough to be your uncle?" he grinned at me._

_"If you are then you look pretty damn good for you age," I teased, sliding an arm round his neck_

_ "If that's the case, then I'll do anything for my beloved niece," he laughed and kissed me again. I returned the favor and wished he wouldn't pull away again, but, as always, he had to go and be a nice guy._

_"What now?" I groaned._

_He looked at me mischievously, "Don't you mind that it's incest?"_

_"Nah," I grinned, "I think incest is actually pretty sexy."_

_"Miss Sally, __**you**__ are the crazy one," he shook his head._

_"Fucking crazy," I echoed his words with a smile._

_After a pause, he asked, "So what do you say?"_

_I started playing with my cuffs again, shifting my weight from one foot to the other. I didn't want to have to answer yet._

_"I don't know why you're hesitating here," he looked at me, evidently confused, "I'm offering you a better place to live, for half your current rent, where you won't be alone anymore."_

_"Maybe I like being alone," I shot back._

_"For a girl who likes her solitude, you sure seem to enjoy my company," he retorted._

_To that, I had no answer. There was silence for another minute, before he tried again._

_"Okay, I'm just letting you know, in case it affects your decision, that I have my own selfish needs in mind here too," he declared._

_"Explain," I raised an eyebrow at him doubtfully. What could I say? I'd always been a cynic._

_"When I don't come by here, and I don't see you, I miss you like hell," he replied, "So, in order to satisfy my desires to see you every day, I want you to move in with me."_

_"You are such a sap," I punched his shoulder playfully._

_"Hey, you're the one who said she missed me when I didn't come around after her shifts," he pointed at me, "I'll just assume you've changed your mind then…."_

_"No," I pouted._

_"No what?" he asked innocently._

_"No, I haven't changed my mind. Yes, I miss you insanely when I don't see you. Yes, I wish I could see you every day," I gave in, "Happy now?"_

_"Only if you move in with me."_

_So, within a week, I'd moved in._


	9. Repentful

Hellooo loves,

Happy (almost) Easter/long-weekend! Now, I go back to school next Wednesday, so I won't have as much time to write. However I have loads and toads of stuff written up for you that will be posted in due time, so don't fret. :)

Now, my Beta, CrimsonSuspense, and, yes, you too Hayley, are wonderful. So are reviewers. But there's something I've noticed.  I've been getting just as many hits, and loads of people author-alerting me, but..very few reviews. This saddens me, and makes me not want to up-date. So review, or no up-dates. It's an ego thing. :)

I still don't own WWRY, but, good news! TORONTO CAST TOURRRRRRRRRRRRR! :)

xxxx 3 

* * *

I loved living with him. I really, truly did. His apartment was gorgeous: huge, disturbingly well-decorated for a single, straight guy's place, and **clean**. Don't get me wrong, it wasn't just the place I liked…it was who I was living there with. I knew about the whole 6-week giddy period in a relationship, but this was lasting a lot longer than 6 weeks… I had a good feeling about this one… I hadn't felt like this about anyone, ever…besides Galileo. But I was trying to forget about him.

My point is, Daniel was good for me. He cared for me, he really did, and he made me smile. Being with him even made me not mind Sam's so much. He was changing me, and I didn't mind.

For the first time in months, I'd decided to call my mother. The week earlier, Daniel had brought me to his parents' house for dinner. There had been something so incredibly **nice** about it, warm, and cozy, and I wanted that. I knew it would be a very, very long time before I ever got to being warm and cozy with my parents, but you had to start somewhere, right?

_ When I'd called, she'd started crying, and as much as I hated to admit it, so had I. After talking to her for about twenty minutes, we'd decided that I'd go over and see them. It was a scary thought, to be perfectly honest. I hadn't seen her in years. We were just talking then, about…stuff…normal stuff. Scary. As she was telling me about some recipe she was thinking of trying out, I felt Daniel's arms snaking around my waist._

_ "Who are you talking to?" he whispered in my ear._

_ "My mother," I said quietly, smiling a little. _

_ He chuckled a little and just stayed there for a while, holding me, which I didn't mind at all. But after a while, in typical Daniel fashion, he grew impatient._

_ "Are you done yet?" he murmured, nibbling on my earlobe._

_ "Shush," I scolded, then returned my attention to my mother, "Yeah, Mom…mhmm…no, no, I totally agree."_

_ I giggled when he started kissing my neck and my shoulders._

_ "Is anything wrong?" my mother's voice asked._

_ "No, just…my friend's acting silly," I replied. I turned my head to have a better look at him, "Stop that! It tickles…"_

_ He grinned, neither agreeing, nor disagreeing. _

_ "Yeah, Mom, I have friends now," I laughed. Only she would ask something like that… And only he would be so stubborn as to not listen to me when I asked him to stop. When I turned my head to ask him to stop again, he cut me off in the middle of my sentence with a kiss. I turned around a little to strain my neck less, still kissing him. I pulled back when I heard my mother's worried voice coming from the phone, "Darling, is anything wrong? Are you still there? What's happened?"_

_ "Nothing's wrong, Mom," I answered quickly, "Just…give me a second." She agreed._

_ I turned around completely to face him, and shook my head. Half-teasing, half-serious, I told him, "Can't you behave?"_

_ "Not around you."_

_ I laughed, "Please, just give me a few minutes."_

_ "Fine," he admitted defeat and went to wait for me on the sofa._

_ "Back," I announced to my mother._

_ Just before we hung up, I asked her, "Mom…about dinner next week…would it be okay if a brought someone along?" Seeing my parents was a huge step. Eating with them was an even bigger one. Doing it all alone…that I wasn't sure I could handle._

_ "Of course, sweetheart," she responded, "Now, would that be your boyfriend you're bringing?"_

_ "No, Mom, my girlfriend," I stifled my laughter at her surprised silence. It wasn't a very good joke, but for her, it worked. "I'm kidding! Yes, it would be my boyfriend."_

_ "Ah, alright then," she paused, "Is that the same friend that you're with now, if you don't mind my asking?"_

_ "Not at all," I replied, "Yes, it's him."_

_ Another pause, "Does he make you happy?"_

_ "Yeah," I smiled, looking over at him, "He makes me very happy."_

_ "That's good to hear, dear," she said softly, "You take care of yourself."_

_ "You too," I answered._

_ When I hung up, I joined Daniel on the couch, where he was grumpily playing some bizarre game on his organizer. He frowned at me when I sat next to him, "You made me lose my game."_

_ I snorted, "You're such a boy."_

_ "Yeah, well…" he put his organizer on the coffee table, "So what's the deal with you and your mom?"_

_ "I decided to call her…I'm going to see them again, you know."_

_ "Both of them?"_

_ "Mhmm."_

_ He studied my face, "I thought you hated your parents."_

_ "Hate is a strong word," I found one of my mother's favorite adages coming out of my own mouth, "We just…don't get along."_

_ "Oh, is that it?"_

_ I nodded._

_ "When's the big day?" he asked, playing with a strand of my hair._

_ "Next week, on Thursday," I kicked off my shoes and folded my legs, Indian-style, on the couch, "And guess what?"_

_ "What?" he opened his eyes wide, like one of those weird people on game shows, "Did you win the Showcase Showdown too?"_

_ "No," I laughed._

_ "You won the car!"_

_ "No!"_

_ "You won the cruise!"_

_ "No!"_

_ "Then what?" he asked, feigning disappointment._

_ "When I go to dinner with them, you're coming with me."_

_ "No," he shook his head, standing up, "No way, no how."_

_ "Please," I pouted._

_ "No sad eyes are getting me to agree to this," he refused, and started walking away, "Not after the horror stories you've told me, from when you brought your past boyfriends over."_

_ "But baby," I followed him, grabbing him by the shirt collar and spinning him around._

_ "What?" he frowned._

_ "They'll like you," I tried._

_ "I'm not buying it," he narrowed his eyes at me. "I bet that's what you told your other boyfriends."_

_ "Not a chance!" I shook my head, "Didn't I ever tell you about my other boyfriends?"_

_ "Not really," he stuck his tongue in his cheek. For only a split second, he looked just like Galileo. My eyes widened in shock, but then he moved, and I managed to shake that weird feeling._

_ "I only brought two boyfriends over to the house," I explained, "One was a drug addict. Any parent would be upset about that, wouldn't they?"_

_ "Fine," he conceded, "And the other one?"_

_ "Was tattooed, pierced, and __**way**__ too old for me," I said matter-of-factly._

_ "How old is 'way too old'? he inquired._

_ "Four years older," I answered, "But then, I was 14 and he was 18."_

_ He laughed, "You have a thing for these May-December romances, don't you?"_

_ "Shut up," I blew my bangs out of my eyes. After a second, I asked, "How old are you anyway?" I knew he was older than me, at least by a couple years, but I wasn't sure by exactly how much. I know, I know, bad girl, dating him for months, even moving in with him, and not even knowing how old he was… At least I knew his birthday. I got credit for that, right?_

_ "28," he answered, looking slightly injured that I didn't know._

_ "Oh," I looked away from him, blushing a little._

_ "Why are you making that face? It's not that big a difference…I mean, it's there, but it could be worse. After all, you're 23, right?"_

_ "Not exactly," I reddened even more._

_ "How does that work out?" he frowned, "You told me you graduated high school five years ago…oh, but then, you're born in late October. You're one of those kids that are always almost a year younger than their class-mates, right? That would make you, what, 22 then?" _

_ "21," I mumbled._

_ "How does that work?" he furled his brow._

_ "I skipped a grade," I answered curtly._

_ "Ah…well…seven years isn't so bad anyway," he shrugged, "Right?"_

_ I didn't answer._

_ "What? Do you want to break up over this?" he asked._

_ "No!" I cried, looking back at him, "Not at all."_

_ "So it doesn't matter, then," he smiled._

_ Still…_

_ "What about my parents?"_

_ "Yeah, see, to __**them**__ it matters."_

_ "How come?"_

_ "Well, they're old-fashioned, like you told me…and they wouldn't like me anyway," he shrugged, "Oh well, guess I can't come next Thursday. C'est la vie."_

_ "Oh no, you're not getting out of this so easy," I grabbed hold of his hands._

_ Reversing the roles, and twisting his hands so he was now holding onto mine, he grinned, "I think I am."_

_ "Please," I begged, "I want you there, and I swear they'll like you." I pouted, a last-resort cheap trick that always resulted in me getting my way._

_ "How do you know?" he tilted his head questioningly, as he let go of my wrists. He put his palms face to face with mine, and laughed a little at how small my hands were compared to his…or how big his were in comparison to mine. _

_ "You're a nice one," I said simply._


	10. Fluffy

Hello againnn :)

You guys are awesomeeee...much, much, much too nice to me! I swear. lmao Now then, just in case you're wondering...after this, there may be 3 more bits about Abs of Steel before we go back to Mr. Figaro. I'm not sure yet...there might only be 2...depends how I work some of it. I still love my Beta, especially after the smut-session we had. She's actually awesome. :)

Still don't own WWRY. Which is sad. Because I'd make better use of it than those who do. 

Love you loads & Happy Easterrrr...mmm...chocolate.

xxxx 3 

* * *

I was right. He came with me on Thursday, after much kicking and screaming on his part – literally– and they loved him. They thought he was charming and sweet, and I swear, if they could have, they would have adopted him. Surprisingly enough, they loved me too. They were so incredibly happy to see me, and even happier when they realized I was happy too. It was like everything I'd ever wanted from them, and more. Okay, so we argued over my hair…but then, we'd always argued over my hair. Besides, a little arguing was alright. It was healthy, wasn't it? Well, it was according to the old magazines I'd read from that lady…what's her name…oh yeah, Orpah.

_ "I told you they'd like you," I said proudly as we walked back into our apartment._

_ "Yeah, you were right," he flicked on the light switch, "As always."_

_ "It's a gift," I teased him, and checked the time. 10:56._

_ "Are you ready to go to bed?" he asked._

_ "Nah," I shook my head, settling down on the couch, "I'm going to stay up a little longer."_

_ "I guess I will too then," he grinned, sitting down next to me._

_ "Copy-cat," I stuck my tongue out at him. I had to admit, as much as I adored him, my come-back skills had greatly diminished since I'd started going out with Daniel._

_ "Yeah, well, I figure since I had to accompany you to your parents' house, I should accompany you on the couch too," he shrugged._

_ "You're so weird," I leaned over and kissed him._

_ "You know you love it," he pushed me down, kissing me harder._

_ I held on to him as tight as I could in an attempt to keep him close. Even though I didn't believe in God, I was praying desperately that for once, he wouldn't stop. I remembered why I didn't pray in the first place when, as usual, he broke away from me._

_ I pleaded with my eyes for him to keep going._

"_Not yet," he insisted._

_I sighed, straightening myself up, but still so that he was leaning over me. He played with my necklace, looking strangely pensive._

"_What's wrong?" I asked, trying to catch his gaze._

"_I was wondering…" he trailed off._

"_Mmhmm?" I nodded, wanting him to go on._

"_That night I met you…your boss told you to stop 'fucking the customers'. Do you remember that?' he looked at me curiously, still fiddling with the gold locket on my necklace._

"_Unfortunately," I clicked my tongue, "What about it?"_

"_Why'd you do that?" he asked softly._

"_Sleep with the customers?"_

_He nodded._

"_I…don't know," I confessed, "I guess they were rebounds."_

"_Bad break-up?"_

"_You could say that…"_

"_How long before I met you?"_

"_Four months," I answered, tracing the outline of his chest muscles with my finger._

"_You screwed customers on a rebound from one bad ex for four months?" he looked at me skeptically._

"_At first, yeah…then they were rebounds of each other," I admitted._

"_Was I a rebound then?" he let go of my necklace, suddenly tensing up._

"_Not at all," I smiled, "You were different."_

"_How so?" he relaxed slightly._

"_I actually liked you."_

"_Oh," he smiled. Then looking behind me, he grinned, "Make a wish…it's 11:11."_

"_You believe in that?" I laughed._

"_Shush!" he put a finger to my lips._

_I sighed and gave in, closing my eyes and wishing._

"_What'd you wish for?" he asked quietly._

"_I wished that I'd marry you, and be with you forever, and have dozens of your beautiful children, all with your eyes," I grinned, kissing him quickly._

"_That's funny," he mirrored my smile._

"_How come?" I looked into those grey eyes I loved so much._

"_Whenever I thought of our kids…"_

"_Wait a second, you actually thought of our kids?" I stared at him incredulously._

"_It crossed my mind a few times," he rolled his eyes good-naturedly._

_I giggled again, "Go on."_

"_I always wanted them to have your eyes."_

"_You really are a sap."_

_He winked at me, then grew serious again, "You said you 'actually liked' me, when you met me, and that's what made me different. How about now?"_

"_How do I feel?"_

_He nodded._

"_Honestly?"_

_He nodded again._

"_You won't think I'm weird or anything, no matter what I say?"_

_He shook his head, and I believed him._

"_I think I'm falling for you," I whispered, scared to say it out loud._

"_Why do you say that?" he asked, looking almost surprised, though pleased at the same time._

"_I like you, and my parents __**love**__ you, and you actually care about me, and you look out for me, and…you're amazing," I said softly._

"_You like me?" he raised an eyebrow._

"_Love you," I corrected myself. _

"_Do you mean that?"_

"_I love you," I said, my voice barely loud enough for him to hear, "I really do."_

"_How much?"_

"_How should I quantify it?"_

"_Do you love me more than the sun?"_

"_More than the sun?" I giggled, "Of course."_

"_More than your job?"_

"_I don't love my job; I need it."_

"_Fine…more than whatever's in those boxes you won't let me touch?"_

_I hesitated._

_My guitars. Well, two of them. I couldn't bear not to bring any with me when I'd left the Heartbreak Hotel. So, I'd packed them up carefully in big boxes, with tons of bubble wrap, along with an amp, and reams of sheet music. When Daniel wasn't home, I'd take them out, and play around with them._

_Finally, I nodded, "More than whatever's in the boxes."_

"_Good," he smiled at me, "Because I love you too, and if you just liked me…that'd be a bit of a downer."_

"_It would be," I agreed, but he still had that same look on his face, like something was really bothering him. "What's wrong?"_

"_Well, since you love me, and I love you, there's something I have to ask you," he said, rummaging through his pockets._

_I laughed, "Oh no…last time you had something to ask me, I ended up moving in with you. This time what is…what's that?" I noticed a little navy object in his hand._

_He bit his lip, taking a deep breath before speaking again. I sat up, having more than a hunch as to what was going to come out of his mouth next. Just in case, my voice quivery, I asked him again, "What is that?"_

"_Sally, I love you," he said, his voice gentle, "I've loved you since you called me an asshole and smacked me. I asked you to move in with me because I hated not seeing you, and I'm going to ask you this because I want to be with you forever. I don't want you to say yes just because you feel bad turning me down. I want you to decide with whatever's best for you, okay?"_

_I nodded, my heart racing._

"_I want to know if you want to be with me forever," he swallowed, opening up the little navy object, which I now realized was a box, "I want to know if you'll marry me."_

"_Oh sweet Jaysus…" I gasped, just staring at the huge diamond ring, which was staring right back at me._

_He'd asked me to marry him. _

_Oh my Lord._

_He wanted to be with me forever and ever, amen._

_But…for some reason, Galileo's face came to mind._

_Stop that, I told myself. He never asked. Five years and he never asked. Five months and Daniel knew he loved you, that you were the one. _

"_How long have you been carrying that ring around?" I smiled at him, partly wanting to know, but mostly because I needed time to catch my breath._

"_Only since today."_

"_How long have you been planning on asking?"_

"_I always wanted to," he shrugged, "It was just a matter of time."_

_I blushed furiously._

"_Are you going to give me an answer?" he asked, not impatiently…more nervously._

"_Yeah, I just…need a minute," I nodded, breathing deeply._

"_Sure, but remember…it's just yes or no," he grinned, "I don't need an acceptance speech."_

_I smiled, and closed my eyes._

_Could I actually see myself living with him forever? Yeah, I could. Did I want to? Yes! Did he love me? If he didn't, he sure as hell did a good job pretending…and that was, after all, what I'd always wanted…somebody to love, remember? So did I love him? Hell, yes._

_I opened my eyes again, and nodded, "Yes."_

"_Yes?" he asked, his face lighting up._

"_Yes," I couldn't help but smile._

_He fitted the ring onto my finger and kissed me. I kissed him back, harder, and harder, digging my fingernails into his back, holding onto him like my life depended on it. He gently pushed me back down and started unbuttoning my blouse. He managed to get it off without too much difficulty and started kissing my bare abdomen. When he started fumbling with his belt buckle, my heart leaped and I realized it was actually the first time he'd gone this far._

_I whispered, "Does this mean we're going to…"_

_He looked up at me and nodded._

"_Seriously?"_

"_Yeah," he nodded again._

"_Promise?"_

_Kissing my stomach again, he whispered, "Promise."_

_And if there was one thing I'd learnt about Daniel, it was that he always kept his promises. _


	11. Desperate

Hello, loves. :)

Reviews are still very much _immensely _appreciated. You're awesome. And my Beat...well, she's actually adored right now. CrimsonSuspense .

Tomorrow's my last day of Spring Break, which makes me pretty much in a bad mood, but yeh. Life goes on, yes? Besides, 2 months until the end of the school year!

Still don't own WWRY. Blargh. lmao

xxxx

* * *

No matter what we fought over, Daniel always let me win. Everything I wanted, he'd eventually end up giving into…everything except one thing.

"_When are you going to quit here?" he asked me when I came out of Sam's._

"_Baby, please don't start again," I begged him._

_He put his arm around my waist as we started walking, "I hate this place, you know that."_

"_I know…but I need this job, __**you**__ know that," I answered, tilting my head back and staring up at the sky._

"_Yeah," he sighed and leaned over to kiss the top of my head._

_He wrinkled his nose and added, "You reek of smoke."_

"_I'll shower when we get home," I replied flatly._

"_I really wish you'd find someplace else to work."_

"_You know they won't have me," I shook my head._

"_You're smart, Sally, and you're a good worker. They'll take you," he insisted._

_I snorted, "If I sell my soul to them they will."_

"_All you have to do is dress down," he said, "Just try…please?"_

"_We'll see," was my simple response. I wasn't ready to make a commitment yet._

"_If you quit, I won't ask you for any money until you get another job," he offered._

"_I don't want you supporting me like that," I shook my head. I liked him caring about me, but didn't want him mothering me either. I liked knowing I was at least somewhat independent. _

"_We're getting married soon. The money's going to be yours too anyway," he countered._

_I sighed, "Like I said, we'll see."_

_After another couple of weeks at Sam's though, I'd had enough. I quit. I didn't care that I didn't have another job to go to; all I knew was that I couldn't take anymore drunken men fondling my breasts. Daniel was happy though. "Finally," he let out a sigh of relief. He helped me find a few job interviews, which I went to dressed sweetly, and wearing very little make-up. I went ready to hold my tongue and control my temper…but they wouldn't have me anyway. _

_The last place, a music programming enterprise, was the straw that broke the camel's back. Apparently my credentials, my studies, and my talent weren't good enough. They wouldn't hire me. Why not? My hair, according to the prick of an interviewer, was "distasteful". If I changed my look, they'd consider me. I was furious. What the hell? My hair, that's why I didn't get the job. Gagas never changed. _

_I needed a job though. I was fed up of being treated like a child. I didn't want to be a burden anymore. So, I went straight to the hairdresser and asked how much it would cost for a dye job, and if they'd take me right away._

"_So, what do you want me to do, hun?" the bizarrely effeminate hairdresser asked me, his hands on his hips. _

"_I want you to dye it back to my natural color," I looked down at the ends of my vibrant purple hair, which went nearly down to my waist._

"_Which is?" he twirled a strand of my hair around his index finger._

"_Umm…gingery, sort of…sort of a lightish brown…kinda ambery…. with a little red in it," I struggled to explain, trying to remember what color my hair was naturally in the first place._

_He took out a little book and pointed to a swatch of color, "That?"_

_I nodded._

"_Hun, if I take this," he tugged on the strand of hair, "And turn it into this..." He nodded towards the book, and then sighed, "Your hair's going to end up breaking off…well, maybe not…but it'll be pretty damaged."_

"_Oh," I sighed, "There's nothing you can do?"_

"_I suppose we could try dying it back, and then cutting it," he offered, his lips curled into a pout, "To try and make it a little healthier, you know."_

_I nodded, "So you're going to dye it, and cut it…how?"_

"_You might not like this…"_

_I bit my lip._

_He gestured to somewhere between my chin and my neck._

"_Well…I guess if that's what you have to do," I said quietly._

"_Are you sure about this, hun?" he asked, his high-pitched voice soft._

_I nodded._

"_Why are you doing this anyway? If that's not too bold of me to ask…" he put his hands on my shoulders._

"_It's a job thing," I answered shortly._

"_Oh…well in your line of work, I'm sure that doesn't __**really**__ matter, does it?" he tried._

"_What line would that be?" I wrinkled my nose._

"_Well, you're one of those Bohemians, aren't you?" he asked._

_I froze._

"_Are you okay?"_

"_I'm __**not**__ a Bohemian."._

"_Oh…well…sorry…you just sort of looked like one, I guess," he smiled weakly, "The hair and all?"_

"_Well I'm not," I snapped, "That's why I'm asking you to cut it off."_

"_Okay, okay, don't get your panties in a bunch," he rolled his eyes, "I just wanted you to be sure about this."_

"_I am."_

_That afternoon, I went back to the music programmer. They took one look at me, and my new short bob, with the long, wispy bangs, smiled, and gave me the job._

_I perked up my head when I heard the door open that evening. Daniel was home. I heard his voice, all the way in my room. He must have been talking to someone on the phone._

_He walked into my room, and stopped for a second. Looking me over, he said into his phone, "I'm going to let you go now."_

"_Baby, what's wrong?" he walked over to me, sitting down next to me on the bed._

_I sniffled pathetically and gave him a __**look**_

"_Oh," he understood. Running his fingers through my hair…or what was left of it…he murmured, "It's not bad, baby. I promise."_

"_It really is," I answered, "Christ…I sound like such a little kid."_

"_You don't," he replied, gently running his fingers across my cheeks, wiping away my tears, "And it's not bad, I swear."_

_I touched the back of my neck self-consciously, feeling the empty space and mumbled, "I got the job."_

"_Is that…oh, Baby," he kissed the top of my head, wrapping his arms round me, "That's why you did it then?"_

_I nodded._

_He shook his head, and cupped my chin with one hand, "Listen to me now, okay?"_

"_Okay," I sniffed again._

"_It's not bad, I swear to God, it's not," he said. He was so earnest that I almost believed him…almost._

_He saw my skepticism._

"_Look, since when had your hair been purple?" he asked._

"_Since I was 14," I played with a loose thread on the cuff of my over-sized red sweater._

"_That's a long time," he nodded, "And since when had it been long?"_

"_Since I was 10," I answered, managing to snap the thread off._

"_Even longer," he nodded again. He took my face in his hands, "It's different; you're just not used to it yet, but I swear you look fine."_

"_Fine?" I looked up at him a little disappointed._

"_Well, I think you're gorgeous," he grinned, "But then, I'm a tad biased."_

"_Gorgeous?" I smiled at him._

"_Fucking gorgeous," he kissed the bridge of my nose, "And adorable."_

"_You're delusional," I laughed._

"_So are you," he ruffled my hair._

_I looked at him doubtfully._

"_Hey," he held me tight, "It's going to be okay. It'll grow back, if you hate it that much."_

"_What if it doesn't?" I wailed, my lower lip still quivering._

"_Sally, of course it will! Your hair won't just stop growing," he shook his head. I could tell he was trying hard not to laugh._

"_Well…what happens if in a year from now, it'll only have grown two inches?"_

"_Then that'll be really weird, and it won't happen."_

_I giggled and looked up at him, "What if it does?"_

"_Then you can shave my head," he grinned._

"_You swear I can?" I looked at him mischievously._

"_I swear you can," he nodded, squeezing my shoulder._

_After a pause, I looked up at him again, "Baby?"_

"_Mm?" he brushed my bangs out of my eyes._

"_Can I shave your head now?" I asked innocently._

_He laughed a deep laugh, all the way from his diaphragm, "What for?"_

_I shrugged, "For fun…and to be nice."_

"_Knowing you," he grinned, "You probably have some kind of weird plot to make sure your hair is growing at a normal rate by timing it with mine."_

"_Shut up," I blushed._

"_Bizarre doesn't even begin to describe you," he kissed me softly, "Bizarre and beautiful…"_

_I giggled again, holding his face in my hands as I kissed him back. _

"_You're so beautiful," he murmured, running his fingers through my hair._

_All the same…_

_It wasn't just a haircut. That hair had been the final thing left from my days at the Heartbreak. It was the last thing that identified me as Scaramouche. Slowly, I'd been losing her…all that was left of her now were two of her guitars, her stubbornness, and her pride…and I was even losing that too._

_And I started crying all over again. Even as I was kissing him, my tears were starting to flow again._

_He rubbed his thumb along my cheek, "Sally…"_

_I sniffled, "Sorry."_

_He shook his head, and took me by the hand, "Come here."_

_I followed him all the way to the bathroom where he picked me up easily and sat me down on the countertop. Sitting on the 3 ½ foot high counter, I was just about eye-level with him as he got out his razor. He plugged it in and handed it to me, "Here."_

"_What's this for?" I raised an eyebrow at him._

"_Knock yourself out," he grinned._

"_What are you talking about?" I wrinkled my nose._

"_Aren't you going to shave my head?" he asked._

"_Why would I do that?" I couldn't help but laugh._

"_For your weird hair growth experiment," he said as if it were the most natural thing in the world. I felt like this was some kind of joke, but he seemed so honest. He really wasn't kidding._

_I bit down on my lower lip for a second, and ran a hand through his dark hair, and told him, "Put this damn thing away, you idiot."_

"_You're not going to do it?" he asked, taking back the razor and unplugging it._

"_Nah…" I hopped down from the counter, "You can keep your hair."_

_He bent down and kissed me, locking his hands firmly around my wrists. He guided me to his room and carefully pushed me down onto his bed, "You're crazy, absolutely crazy, so crazy that I don't even know what to do with you anymore." He punctuated every word with a kiss._

_I laughed, feeling his warm breath on my face and kissed him back. I'd come home hating my haircut, miserable, and feeling defeated, but when I fell asleep that night…well let's just say I was happy. _


	12. Taken Aback

Ello my darlings :)

We're near-done with Abs: The Saga (aka the Interims)...this is the 2nd-last one. I'm actually feeling really sad about that...I'm gonna miss talking about how lovely he is. XD Anyhow, you all are wonderful for reviewing, and my Beta, CrimsonSuspense, is actually fantabulous. She makes my day. :) We have way too much together.

I know this is a bit of a weird chapter, as far as having a beginning, middle and end goes, but it's sort of setting up for the next one. lol

I still don't own WWRY. If anyone wants to give it to me as a mourning-my-Spring-Break present, as today's my last day off, I'll gladly accept. Now I'm off to weep over the last of my break. Updates, for all future reference, are going to get a lot...slower. lmao Not to worry though; I've got about 12,000 words of writing in stock for you. :)

xxxx

* * *

One of the best things about our relationship was that we didn't fight. We argued and disagreed, but never really fought…not like Figgy and I had...which is to say we didn't spend more time fighting than getting along. It wasn't that I'd magically become sweet-tempered, accommodating and agreed with everything he said. It was that Daniel just didn't have a temper at all, which, of course, I teased him about all the time. He insisted he did; I just hadn't made him mad yet.

_"Baby, we're going out tonight," Daniel's voice rang out as he came in the front door. _

_"What do you mean, 'we're going out tonight'?" I asked, not looking up from my puzzle book._

_I heard him padding towards me as he said, "__**I**__ am taking __**you**__ out tonight, okay?" Out of the corner of my eye, I saw his feet planted on the floor in front of me._

_"Sure…but…" I put my book aside, looked up at him, and gasped, "Oh my Jaysus Christ! What have you done?"_

_He rubbed his hand along the back of his neck bashfully, "Well…you still felt bad about yours, so…"_

_"Oh my God…" I stood up on the couch and ran my hands along his head, along his short buzz cut, "Your hair…your gorgeous hair!"_

_He laughed at me, "You'd think it was your head I'd shaved…"_

_"Daniel!" I punched his arm, and looked at him seriously, "What got into you?"_

_"Well, you know when you think I'm not watching, and you look in the mirror, and sigh, and mope, and mourn your hair?" he grinned at me, putting his arms around my waist._

_"I do not," I frowned, blushing. I'd never been a good liar when it came to stuff like this. Getting out of a tricky situation I could do. Hiding my vanity, not so much…_

_"I'm not wasting time arguing over that," he pressed his hands against the small of my back, "We both know you do. Anyway, I felt so bad for you, that…well…you can figure the rest out."_

_"You want to know what I think of this?" I put my arms around his neck, not used to the lack of dark shaggy hair falling onto my fingers._

_"Sure…unless you're going to tell me you think I look like an idiot," he replied._

_"No, you're still gorgeous," I shook my head and paused, "I think you're a sweetheart, but that you need fucking help."_

_He threw back his head and laughed, before giving me a kiss, "Well I'm glad you didn't say I looked like a cue ball or something…"_

_I giggled, "Not at all." He really was still gorgeous though… I mean, his hair was beautiful…well, it had been anyway. But like this, he looked…tougher, manlier. I liked it…it was sort of a turn-on, once I got over the shock of it. I let go of his neck, pushing my hands upwards, running them along his…skin. This would take some getting used to… He really was sweet though._

_"What were you saying about going out tonight?" I asked him, planting a kiss on the top of his head._

_"Well, when I came into work like this," he answered, picking me up, and swirling me around, "My friends wanted to know what the hell had possessed me to do this…so I told them the whole story." Noticing the dirty look I'd just shot him, he added, "Yes, I left out some of your crying, and pouting…and the whole mirror thing you do."_

_"Good," I nodded as he put me down, "Go on."_

_"They decided that they have to meet the little missy who's got me crazy for her, doing things that no self-respecting man would do," he grinned._

_I laughed, "Have I met any of them yet?"_

_"Yep," he nodded, "Roger and James came for lunch a couple times."_

_"Roger and James…" I mused, trying to remember them. Ah, yes, lunch. Well they weren't bad at all. "Cool…who are the others?"_

_"Ken, Brent, and Kyle."_

_One thing I would never get used to about the "civilized world": these god-awful names. Why did these guys all have horrible names? Wait a second…guys…just guys…_

_"Baby, where are we going?" I narrowed my eyes at him, having a bad feeing about this._

_"To a sort of casino-bistro type of thing," he answered casually, as he walked over to the kitchen, "Why?"_

_"Oh no," I shook my head, following him, "No way."_

_"What's wrong?" he turned his head towards me, a quizzical expression on his face._

_"You're taking me on a boys' night out!" I cried, "Baby, your friends are going to hate you!"_

_"It's not a boys' night out," he protested, "I swear. They're bringing their girlfriends too, honest. They're all going to be there, except Cookie."_

_I opened my mouth to snap something about my intruding on their club then, since they all knew each other, but stopped myself. __**Cookie.**__ I couldn't have heard right._

_"Who, or what, is a Cookie?"_

_"She's Brent's girlfriend."_

_"That's…that's a nick-name he has for her, right?" I rested my elbows on the kitchen counter, and leaned back on it._

_"No…that's her real name," he answered, as if that was totally normal. _

_I closed my eyes and took a deep breath, trying my very hardest not to burst out laughing. Finally, I was able to speak, "Now, I'm not trying to be mean here, dear, but…who in their right mind would name their poor child Cookie? And who the hell would keep that damn name into their adult lives?"_

_He looked at me very seriously and answered, "I have wondered that since I first met her."_

_We both burst out laughing. Oh God…he was taking me out to see people with names like Ken and Cookie. I was scared._

_I shook my head, "So when do we leave?"_

_He looked over at the clock, "In about two hours…is that okay?"_

_"Yeah," I nodded, "I'm going to get ready."_

_After I'd showered and managed to fashion my hair into a half-way decent sort of up-do, I knocked on his bedroom door._

_"What's wrong?" he opened the door, still wet from the shower, with just a towel around his waist. My heart leaped. Why did he have to be so damn good-looking?_

_"Zip me up?" I asked him, started to feel my cheeks flushing a little. Why did just the sight of him manage to fluster me so much? I was living with him, engaged to him, even, and yet… Christ, I felt like a schoolgirl…_

_"Zip you up?" he gave me a funny look._

_"Yeah," I nodded, "My dress." I turned around and he saw that the back of my bright purple flapper dress wasn't done up._

_"Ohhh…sure," he agreed. I heard the sound of the zip going up, but then it stopped, and I knew it couldn't possibly have gone up all the way. _

_"What's wrong?"_

_"I didn't know you had a tattoo…" I felt his fingertips brushing against the middle of my back._

_"Oh," I blushed again._

_"Why haven't I noticed it before?" he asked, more to himself than to me._

_I bit my lip, unsure of whether or not this was too lewd an answer, but finally decided on it, "Well…I __**was**__ always on bottom."_

_He laughed, "True…but…what are these?"_

_"Castanets," I answered simply._

_"What for?"_

_"For dancing."_

_"Will you do the fandango…" he murmured, tracing what I knew had to be the words on my back._

_"It's a dance," I giggled._

_"Ah, I understand," he replied, though I could tell he didn't understand at all, "Care to demonstrate?"_

_"Not really," I answered with a smile, "I never really was any good at it."_

_"So you had it tattooed onto your back?" he retorted, zipping my dress up completely this time. _

_"It was something I had with a friend…" I trailed off, turning to face him, with a mischievous grin, "Besides, it's not just a dance."_

_"No?"_

_"Nah," I shook my head._

_"Then what is it?" he looked at me curiously._

_"I'll tell you about it tonight," I winked at him, "Now you ought to get dressed."_

_For some reason, I realized, as I walked back towards my room to put on my shoes, talking about my days at the Heartbreak had become a lot easier. I didn't get that knot in my throat anymore, and I didn't cry about it anymore. I didn't even think about Galileo so much, and when I did, I wouldn't freeze up like I used to. Maybe I was moving on…_

_We got to the place, a ritzy bistro-type that begged to be artsy…but wasn't…the kind of place my parents would have gone to when they were young. I couldn't help feeling a little bit intimidated; I was playing a part, and sooner or later, someone would take off my mask, and show everyone who I really was…and then I'd lose everything all over again._

_"Is anything wrong?" he asked me, as he hung my coat up in the lobby._

_"Not at all," I lied._

_He gave me that look, the one that told me he didn't believe me, but that he'd go along with me anyway. Slipping an arm around my waist, he replied, "Whatever you say, babe."_

_As he guided me to his 'usual table', I asked him, "Where did you say you knew these people from?"_

_"High school…though a few of them ended up working where I do."_

_"Oh…high school," I pursed my lips, "Which is to say they were in your class?"_

_"Yeah," he nodded._

_"Great," I sighed, "Not only have you known these people for, what, 15 years, but I'm going to be the baby, aren't I?"_

_"Why are you such a cynic?" _

_"I'm not; I'm realistic," I answered simply_

_He laughed at me, and then pointed towards a group of people a few feet in front of us, "There they are." A tall blond guy was standing, waving us over, grinning from ear-to-ear. I noticed that the five guys looked nice enough, normal enough. They were playing cards around a table, and one of them, a red-haired one I recognized from having come over, took a sip of his drink. Four girls I could only assume were their girlfriends were sitting in a little bunch, chattering and tittering away. All I could think looking at them was, "So this is what Teen Queens grow up to be…"_

_"What's wrong?" Daniel asked, obviously noticing my hesitation._

_"Those girls are…they're…Jaysus…" I shook my head._

_"They're what?"_

_I made a face at him, "Can you see me getting along with them?"_

_"If you mind your manners…possibly…a little bit," he grinned._

_"Not really then," I smiled back, linking my hand with his. _

_He sighed, "You can hang with me and the guys, if you want."_

_I puckered my lips into a pout, "But then they'll call me anti-social."_

_"Are you going to sit in your little corner, like you're surgically attached to me, staring at the floor, talking only to me, except to mumble to yourself every so often?" he raised his eyebrows at me._

_"No."_

_"Are you going to talk to them?"_

_I looked over at them again. They looked safe enough, but all the same…_

_"Are they assholes or perverts?"_

_"No!"_

_"Then I'll talk to them," I grinned._

And talk to them I did…


	13. Snapped

Ello darlings! :)

So after 8 wonderful interims, it would seem that this is actually the last one! I know...it's horrible. Made me cry when I realized I was done with Absy. tears

After this though, we've got Figgy...which brings me to an important note. See, after a lot of fun, and talking, and giggling, and smutting, my lovely Beta & I ended up with a bizarre amount of Galileo/Scaramouche kinkiness, which means that I'll have to probably up the rating on this story, making it "M". This would entail it not showing up in the regular listings of WWRY stories, which would mean you'd actually have to go out of your way, onto my profile to read it (or Story Alert it). Gasp.

I'm giving you all 2 chapters notice here, before I have to figure out what I do about this rating thing. I might figure some other solution out in the meantime though.

As always, reviews were very much appreciated & adored, and will be in the future. You all kick ass. :)

Still don't own WWRY.

xxxx 3

* * *

"_Is __**that**__ what doing the fandango means?" he murmured into the back of my neck._

_"Mhmm," I nodded, playing with the hem of the t-shirt I'd "borrowed" from him._

"_Well you could have just said so," he brushed my hair to one side of my neck and kissed my earlobe._

"_True," I smiled, "But wasn't it more fun this way?"_

"_You know it was."_

"_You know what I was thinking?" I said, after a pause, turning over to face him._

"_What?" he asked._

"_Your friends must think you've lost your mind," I giggled, "Committing to some girl after you've known her, what? A few months, that's it."_

"_It's been 8 months," he corrected, a small frown at the corners of his mouth._

"_Feels like longer…" I mused, absent-mindedly kissing the upturned corners, then, "Not the point though. It's only been 8 months."_

"_Well, you're right," he kissed my nose, "They do think I've lost my head…but they're okay with it. They're happy for me."_

"_All of them?" I raised an eyebrow._

"_Well…except Cookie," he admitted sheepishly._

"_Again with this damn Cookie?" I laughed, "What about her now?"_

_He reddened a little, "She's not exactly talking to me anymore. That's sort of why she didn't come tonight…"_

"_Did she have the hots for you, or what?" I blinked at him._

"_Not exactly," he pushed a hand through his hair in exasperation, "See, I used to go out with her best friend…"_

"_Let me guess, her name was Candy?"_

"_Shut up."_

"_It was, wasn't it?"_

"_Shut up."_

"_It totally was," I snorted, "You went out with a girl named Candy."_

"_In your words, not the point," he attempted to look at me authoritatively, but…well, it didn't exactly work. He ended up smiling at me instead._

"_Tell me about Candy then," I asked, trailing my finger up and down his chest, "When did you guys go out? When'd you break up?"_

_He cleared his throat, and looked away from me, "The morning after I met you, I went to see her, and I told her I didn't want…"_

"_You did not."_

"_I did."  
"You broke up with her because of me?" I threw back my head and laughed, "That's a good one. No wonder her best friend hates you."_

"_Be quiet, you," he frowned._

"_You're adorable when you get all sulky like that," I kissed him, "Now tell me, why on earth would you break up with her the morning after I met her?"_

"_I didn't feel anything for Candy. She was cute, she was sweet, but…I didn't get any…spark from her, you know? I figured if I was going to feel anything, I'd have felt it by then, since I'd been going out with her for nearly two years…"_

"_Shit, two years?" I looked at him incredulously, "You didn't love the girl and you stuck around that long?"_

"_I felt bad breaking up with her," he explained, "And I kept hoping that, maybe, she'd impress me one day."_

"_What changed your mind?" _

"_You know what changed my mind."_

"_Humor me."_

_He shook his head, "You know it was you."_

"_What about me?" I snuggled closer to him._

"_You're really enjoying this aren't you?" he grinned._

_I nodded and he shook his head again, "There was something special about you."_

"_Oooh, special," I looked up at him, "I'm liking the sound of this. Go on…"_

"_I don't know. I just really wanted to get to know you," he pushed my hair out of my eyes, "I had a good feeling about you."_

"_A spark?" I teased._

"_Yes, a spark," he gave me the usual __**look**__ I gave him. I laughed._

"_I wanted to make you mine."_

"_Oh, baby, you know I don't belong to nobody," I replied, only half-teasing._

"_Well, you __**are**__ going to be my wife," he countered good-humoredly._

"_You really like the sound of that don't you? 'Your wife'," I looked at him curiously. His tone was amicable, but his flashing eyes told me otherwise. He was serious about that. _

"_It's the truth though," he answered matter-of-factly._

"_Great, so you'll be my husband."_

"_Sure, but it's not the same thing, exactly…"_

"_What the hell's that supposed to mean?" I snapped._

"_Why are you being so touchy?" he asked._

"_Why are you being so chauvinistic?" I retorted._

"_Big words from a little lady," he smirked._

"_You know what?" I sat up, more than a little ticked off, "I'm going to sleep in my room tonight."_

_Before I could even swing my legs over the side of the bed, he grabbed hold of my arm, "Sally…stay."_

_I turned my head, "Why? So you can tell me more about your 'I-big-man-you-weak-woman' theories?"_

"_I didn't mean to upset you…" he pleaded, his eyes soft now._

"_Then will you shut up with the great man theories?" I raised my eyebrows, not letting my guard down._

_The corner of his mouth twitched at the "great man" mention, but he managed to keep a straight face while he said, "Yes, I'll shut up."_

"_Fine," I blew my bangs out of my eyes._

"_You know I love you," he took my face in his warm hands, "Right?"_

"_Yeah, I know," I pouted._

"_I just…want to protect you," he stroked my cheek gently._

"_What is it with guys and protecting me?" I frowned, thinking of Galileo._

"_It's an instinct," he smiled wryly, "Can't help it."_

_I sighed and mumbled, "Sorry I snapped."_

"_It's okay."_

"_No, it's just…pressure! Pushing down on me, pressing down on you, no man asks for."_

_Fuck._

_He was looking at me like I was psycho._

_Why did I have to go and sing?_

_Non-Bohemians don't go around singing like idiots._

_So, evidently, I'm an idiot._

"_What was that?" he blinked at me._

"_What do you mean?" I felt my cheeks flushing._

"_The whole singing thing?" he cocked his head._

"_You're hearing things," I crossed my arms, and pulled up my knees to my chest._

"_I didn't know you sang."_

"_I don't."_

"_So what was that?"_

"_Nothing."_

"_Sally, look at me," he tilted my face towards him. His grey eyes searched my face for some kind of answer, "Why didn't you tell me you sing?"_

"_I don't," I frowned, "Not anymore."_

"_So you did sing?" he asked._

"_I didn't say that either," I nibbled on my lower lip._

"_Why'd you stop?" he probed._

"_**Who wants to live forever anyway, babe?"**_

"_I don't want to talk about it," I bit down even harder on my lip, tasting the salty, metallic taste of blood._

"_Why do you get like this?"_

"_Get like what?" I wiped my lip on the back of my hand._

"_All…secretive," he narrowed his eyes, "Like you're hiding something."_

"_I don't know what you're talking about," I answered brusquely, not meeting his stare. _

"_Yeah you do," he persisted, "I ask you something about yourself and you clam up on me."_

"_That's not true," I crossed my ankles, still avoiding looking at him._

"_**Fuck you, Scaramouche. Fuck you, and your feminism, and your stupid, 'It's all about me' attitude!"**_

"_Don't give me that. You know as well as I do that every time I ask you about yourself before you met me, you get all weird," he growled. _

"_Weird," I rolled my eyes, "Nice choice of words."_

"_At least I __**use**__ words, unlike you, who just shuts the world out," he shot back._

"_**You're leaving? Again? You're leaving me **__**again**_

"_I'm actually really going to sleep in my room tonight, okay?" I hopped off the bed, "Okay."_

_Please, baby, don't go any further. Don't make me say anything I'm going to regret. I don't want to hurt you, but I can't tell you. Not tonight. Not yet. Please, baby, shut up._

"_Sally, get your ass over here," he snarled. I could tell he was coming after me, but his voice was hostile enough to stop me right in my tracks. I turned around on the spot, slowly. I looked at him, trying not to scream or cry or say anything too hurtful._

"_What?"_

"_What the hell do I have to do for you to talk to me, huh?" he asked, his eyes on fire, "For you to tell me something about you, anything?"_

_I didn't answer._

"_**This is a big decision, miss."**_

"_**I know."**_

"_What is it you're keeping from me?" he grabbed hold of my wrists._

_I didn't answer._

"_**I hate you. I really, really hate you."**_

"_What the fuck is your problem?" he yelled, his grip tightening. _

_I didn't answer, but for the first time since I'd met him, I was scared of him. Really scared. It had never happened before, but I was suddenly aware of how much bigger than me he was, how much stronger, how if he wanted to, he could probably crush the bones in my wrists. _

"_Please, just leave me alone," I begged him._

"_You want me to leave you alone?"_

"_Mhmm," I practically whimpered._

"_Fine," he let go of me, shaking his head, "If that's what you want, fine."_

_I tried thinking happy, serene thoughts. I tried making myself herbal teas. I even tried counting sheep. I couldn't sleep. I'd lost Scaramouche, but even in her absence, she was persistent as hell. She wasn't going without a fight. I could try to get rid of her all I wanted, but her memories… They'd haunt me forever._

"_**Is this your first time?"**_

"_**I miss you when you leave…but then, it's your job, isn't it? Be the Dreamer, save the world."**_

"_**You're such a fucking asshole!"**_

"_**Why do we always fight?"**_

"_**I hate this! I hate being alone all the time!"**_

"_**I'm not your little dolly-girl."**_

"_**Fuck you."**_

"_**I love you."**_

"_**Please don't go."**_

"_Get out of my head!" I sobbed, holding my hands over my ears, trying to block out the voices, the pictures, the memories…_

"_**It's due in 6 months."**_

"_**Will it hurt?"**_

"_No!" I cried, "No…not that one…please."_

"_**Are you sure about this?"**_

"_**I have no other choice, doctor."**_

_I hadn't had a choice. Honest._

_I'd asked Galileo if he wanted to have a baby, I had! He said he didn't, not yet. He wasn't ready; we weren't ready. We couldn't handle it yet, he said. Would he be happy if we had one now? Not exactly, no. But then, I'd never told him I was actually pregnant…_

_When was I supposed to tell him? He was gone the whole two months I'd known. He'd left me, like always, to go save the world, to take care of everyone…everyone except me. He'd come home for two nights. I'd asked him about the idea of a baby the second, and didn't have the heart to tell him after his less than warm reception to the idea. Then he'd left for another three months. By the time he came back, it would be too late. So it was all up to me._

_And I couldn't handle it. I was too young. I was too irresponsible. I could barely keep myself out of trouble, much less a baby. I couldn't do this. I couldn't. _

_Maybe if I got help, maybe if he were there for me. But he wouldn't be. He never was. How would this change anything? And alone, trying to do this all by myself? I just wouldn't be able to do it. It would kill me. _

_I had no other choice._

_I had to do it._

_And I hated him for it._

_Or at least, I wanted to, but I couldn't bring myself to._

_So I just hated myself for it instead._

"_**Just close your eyes and it will all be over, sweetie."**_

"_Stop it!" I shrieked, sitting up suddenly, clutching my stomach._

"_Sally!" A loose chink of light flooded the room as my door was pushed open._

_I looked at the doorway and saw Daniel standing there, "What's going on?"_

"_Make it stop," I cried, squeezing the small folds of skin of my stomach, "Please." My voice was cracking._

"_I don't know what you're talking about," he said, softly, approaching me, "If you could just tell me what's wrong, maybe I could…"_

"_No," I shook my head, "No."_

_He sat down next to me and looked at me seriously, "Are you okay, physically?"_

_I nodded, trying, and failing, to stem the flow of tears with my hand._

"_Are you okay, in general?" he cupped my chin in his hand._

_I shook my head, my vision now completely obscured by tears._

"_Are you going to be okay?"_

"_No," I choked, "It's never, ever going to be okay."_

"_Can I do anything to make it better?" he murmured, wiping my tears with his hands._

_I shook my head._

"_What do you want me to do then?" he asked._

"_Stay," I whispered, "But don't talk. Please don't talk."_

"_Okay," he put his arms around me, holding me close to him. I cried into his chest, softly at first, but my sobs got louder and louder until I was practically hysterical._

"_My baby…I'm so sorry…" by then, I was actually weeping. He held me tighter, rocking me gently as I sobbed helplessly into him._

"_Shh…" he whispered._

_I looked up at him suddenly, "I love you."_

"_I love…"_

_I cut him off, tilting my chin up and kissing him. Then, everything turned into a mess of hands, and warm breath, and kisses. Suddenly, he was everywhere, all around me. All I could feel was his body pressed against mine; the woodsy smell that followed him everywhere had become over-powering; the only things I heard were the sweet nothings he was whispering in my ear; all I wanted was to love him, and for him to love me…to take this broken girl and make her whole again._

_He broke away from me abruptly, as though he'd just realized what he'd been doing, "Sally…why are you doing this?"_

"_I want a baby," I said quietly._

"_What?" he looked at me, stunned._

"_I want a baby," I repeated. I had to fix things. I would never find any peace, never rest again, if I didn't make up for what I'd done. I had to make good for the one I'd lost. I wanted a baby, and I wanted one now. I'd screwed things up the first time. I'd started over again, and I was going to do things right with Daniel._

"_You want a baby," he looked at me, bemused._

_I nodded, "Please."_

"_Sally…I don't know what to tell you…" he said softly, brushing my hair out of my eyes._

"_You don't want one?" my lip quivered._

"_No, I do…I mean, no…no, I mean…yeah," he groaned and looked up at the ceiling for a second, then back down at me, "Look, it's just that…I'm not sure if you're thinking properly right now."_

"_What do you mean?"_

"_Don't get me wrong, Sally," he stroked my cheek gently, "I want to have a baby with you. Hell, I want to have a lot of them with you. I just don't know if the girl who's begging for a baby now is the girl you're going to be in the morning…you know?"_

"_I want one," I insisted, "I swear."_

"_Are you sure about this?" his brows were knitted together as he searched my face for some kind of understanding of what I was thinking. _

_I nodded, but added, "Do you promise you'll never leave me?"_

"_Sally, you know I won't."_

"_You'll always love me?"_

"_Always."_

"_Then I want one, I really, really do."_

_He kissed my forehead, "You don't think you're too young or anything?"_

_I shook my head._

"_Because, you know, Sally, you're only 21…you've still got a long time for this…" he nuzzled his nose in my neck._

"_I know," I replied, "But, you know, you're already 28…29 in three months…you'll be almost 30 when you have your first baby."_

"_I can wait."_

"_I don't want to."_

_He sighed and kissed my forehead again, "Look, we can try if you want to…but not tonight. Tomorrow, when you're feeling better, we'll talk again. Okay?"_

"_Okay." _

_As I finally fell asleep in his arms that night, I realized then that I needed closure. I needed to be done with this story once and for all. I prayed that some way, somehow, I could finally be done with this. Maybe there is a God, because the next week, I ran into Galileo for the first time in a year._


	14. Screwed Majorly

Hello my lovelies. :)

It's been a while for this story, hasn't it? As always, thank you the fabbity-fab-fab people who reviewed. I love you muchly. :) Thank you to CrimsonSuspense, the fabbity-fab-fab beta for this, who also deserves credit, since she's the one who did the little flashback in here, which actually made me cry, so I just had to keep it... And no thank you to Ben Elton. See, I phoned him up this morning and he wouldn't sell me We Will Rock You, so no, it's not mine.

Now then, here's another note for you. You may notice that a few chapters have been deleted. Don't fret. They'll be reposted, as well as many other chapters in a seperate story, which will be rated M, describing Figgy & Miss Mouche's last day together. This was decided because...well, I clearly had an issue with the whole rating thing for this story. lmao So, if you want to read the sappy, smutty bits, you'll have that option...but if you like to keep it PG, you don't have to. :)

Sooo...without further ado...the story. :)

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_When I woke up the next morning, I realized that I'd done something…horrible. Unforgivable even. At the same time though, I didn't regret it, because there was something else I realized: as much as I loved Daniel, I loved Galileo too…and like he'd pointed out, this could be the last time I ever saw him. So, I decided to take advantage of it…at least until Daniel got home. Then, all hell broke loose…_

"Sally? Who the _hell_ is that?"

"Oh holy shit," I gasped, wide-eyed.

"You!" Daniel growled suddenly, his eyes on Galileo, looking furious. He stormed over to us and grabbed Galileo, "What the fuck are you still doing here?"

When Galileo didn't answer, he shook him, "Say something, you bastard! What the hell are you still doing here?" He wound up his fist, ready to land a punch and I shrieked. Daniel lowered his arm and looked at me, almost as though he'd just remembered I was there.

"Don't hurt him," I begged, "Please, Daniel...don't hurt him."

He grabbed me by my shoulders and it took a second for me to register that the reason my eyes were watering was because he'd smacked me, hard, across the face.

"Don't you say a word," he growled at me, his eyes on fire, "I'll deal with you later."

I was about to nod, when Galileo tore him away from me, "Don't you touch her!"

His eyes bulged.

"Touch her? Touch her? I'll do whatever I fucking want to! She's my fiancée! And it's none of your fucking business to even be in here!" His eyes followed the trail of evidence. The now empty can of whipped cream. The smears of it on the counter and in my hair. The clothes scattered across the floor. The trails of cream on Galileo's chest.

Daniel's' eyes flickered from me to Galileo, his shoulder's heaving with the realization of what had happened. His voice venomous, he turned to me, "Sally, if you tell me you didn't do what I think you did, it would make things a lot easier. Can you do that?"

I shook my head, my cheeks turning red.

"You fucking slut!" he roared, grabbing hold of my wrist hard enough to leave a bruise, "What the hell were you thinking?" He smacked me again, and again, and again, harder.

"I told you not to touch her!" Galileo pulled him away from me by the shirt. This time, it was Galileo's fist that was raised.

"No!" I screamed, "Stop it!"

He didn't even give me a second glance as he punched him, clear in the jaw.

"Oh my God..." I gasped, spotting the blood on his lip, "No, no, no..."

"That's how you want it?" Daniel growled, "That's how you'll get it." He raised his own arm, determined not to let Galileo get away with punching him.

Blow after blow, groaning, swearing, screaming...I watched, horrified, as the only two men I'd ever really cared about beat each other to pieces. There was no telling who was winning, whose blood it was on the floor, who was more hurt; they were a mess of arms and legs, their bodies tangled together.

"Stop it! Stop it now!" I screamed, covering my ears, in vain. They were on the floor now, rolling around. I jumped when Daniel's head smashed against the corner of the fridge. And again when I heard Galileo yelp in pain, though I had no idea why.

I screamed, but it was as if they were in a little bubble of their own, and couldn't hear me. It was like when I was a little kid, and my parents were fighting...

_"John, how could you be so irresponsible?" My mother screamed. They'd been fighting for over an hour. I frowned, and huddled up a little tighter in my corner. The argument was about my little brother, of course. He was five months old, and he was my parents' little miracle. They were on the verge of breaking up, but then my mother discovered she was pregnant. My father was elated, sure that it was a sign that they were meant for each other. I, though being only six at the time, knew how the world worked, and consequently knew that the men my mother had over every night while my father did extra work weren't her 'work friends', or that the banging on the walls that kept me awake at night wasn't mummy being silly and falling over._

_Baby Michael was crying, so I quietly slipped upstairs, and stroked his little cheek. I wasn't allowed to touch him normally, Mummy said that my horrible germs would make him sick, and he might die. He still wailed, though. Carefully, I picked him up, just like Mummy did, with one hand under his head to support it. Suddenly, Mummy came in, her face red from crying, and her hair all over the place._

_That meant Daddy had been hitting her again. I don't know what made me do it, but I walked over to her, still holding my brother, and said, "Mummy, look! I made Michael stop crying!" _

_Her face contorted with rage, and she grabbed him out of my hands. The sudden movement startled him, and he started to wail again._

_"No, you stupid little Bitch, you didn't." She yelled, and my good feelings melted away as quickly as they'd come. _

_"You just scared him so badly he stopped crying. I've told you, you never ever touch him, you might kill him with those horrible germs you have."_

_"I'm sorry, Mummy. I promise I will never do anything that might put him in danger ever again, because that would be heartless and cruel and mean, just like me." I recited earnestly._

_"That's right, Sally. Now, go and wash again, and then put the cream on, and then go to bed, and I won't make Daddy smack you tonight if you go to sleep quickly."_

_"Yes, Mummy who I love best in the world." I recited the other half of the speech. "I will do as you say because you know what is best for me, and I am lucky to have you because anyone else would have thrown me away while I was a baby."_

_"Damn right they would. Now, you may leave."_

_I walked into the utility room, and over to the cupboard that was just my height. I pulled out the bottle marked 'Modesto's Household Bleach', a clean white flannel, pulled off my clothes, and set to work scrubbing my body clean._

_It wasn't until later, as I was trying to get to sleep on the mattress in my small bedroom that I realized that Mummy and Daddy had gone. They'd taken Michael, as they'd never left us alone together. I clutched my threadbare rabbit, and sucked my thumb, trying to pretend there was somebody cuddling me as I went to sleep, somebody that wasn't my Daddy. What he called 'cuddling' couldn't really be cuddling, because all the girls at school said it felt warm and safe. My Daddy's hands in places I didn't like didn't make me feel safe at all. Snuffling into my Rabbit, I slept._

"Stop it!" I screamed, my voice so loud it didn't sound like my own, "Stop it right now, both of you!"

But nobody listened; neither one of them cared. They were too busy in their own actions, just like everyone else…just like always. Nothing ever changed. I felt my knees starting to tremble. Finally, as the tears started streaming down again, they gave way and I crumpled, falling to the floor. I sobbed into my hands; I didn't want to watch them anymore. Why was this happening? Why did everything go so horribly wrong? Why did I manage to ruin everything?

I heard a groan so loud I couldn't keep from looking at them. I saw Daniel, clutching his right wrist, his face contorted with pain, as he leaned his head back against the wall, and Galileo looking at him a low, angry growl, "You fucking bastard. Don't you ever hurt her again."

I managed to stand up and slowly make way towards them. Upon further inspection, I saw that Daniel was slack-jawed, blood drying in the corners of his mouth, trickling down his chin; I realized that his hand should not be limp, hanging at that angle; I noticed a tooth in the middle of the floor, though I didn't know whose, and I wasn't about to ask; I saw that Galileo had ended up with two black eyes, and that his bare chest was covered in scratches and bruises.

"Oh God," I gasped.

Galileo put an arm around my waist, "Don't ever let him hurt you again." I couldn't bear to look at him, with his swollen eyes.

Daniel groaned again, squeezing his wrist. I broke away from Galileo and knelt down next to him, "Let me see?"

Daniel looked at me, hesitating, before extending his hand to me. I gingerly took his drooping wrist in my hand and he winced.

"Sorry," I said softly.

"It's okay," he answered through gritted teeth, his eyes closed in pain.

I heard footsteps and turned my head to see Galileo heading towards the door.

"Baby, don't…"

"What?" he snapped at me, "You want me to stay and watch you nurse him back to health? Besides, I don't want to be here when Abs of Steel comes around."

"Figgy…" I said softly, not knowing what else to say.

"Didn't think you could argue with that," he raised his eyebrows. Turning to Daniel, he snarled, "If you ever hurt her again, I _will_ find out about it, and you will _not_ get away it. Do you understand me?"

"Oh, I understand," his voice rumbled, "And if I ever see you near her again, I will personally break every bone in your body, you fucking psychopath."

"Who are you to say who's allowed near her?"

"Her fiancé…who are _you_ to be telling me what I can and can't do with my girl?"

"Your girl, is she?" he raised an eyebrow, zipping up his leather jacket.

"What's your point?" Daniel narrowed his eyes at him.

"Funny, isn't it then, that it's not you who knows her inside out, who can make every inch of her throb with longing, who can sing the song in her heart when she forgets it's even there?" Galileo's voice was bitter, and full of hurt.

"What are you saying?" Daniel growled.

"Figure it out yourself, pretty boy," he opened the door, tipping an imaginary hat in my direction, "Good bye, Scaramouche."

"Figgy!" I ran to him, even with Daniel watching. I grabbed onto his arm, holding him like my life depended it, "One month. You promised, remember?"

"I can't Baby Girl," he smiled at me sadly, "Abs of Steel over there just affirmed that he would indeed kill me if I did."

"Don't leave," I begged him, "Please don't leave."

"I can't stay; you know that," he rubbed his thumb along my jaw line.

My shoulders started shaking as I felt that stupid lump in my throat again. I must have cried enough to fill a swimming pool that day…

"Come here, Sexy," he pulled me close, trying to get a smile out of me. It didn't work. "Don't cry, not over me."

"I can't help it," I sniffed into his chest.

He tilted my chin up to face him, "Scaramouche, you listen to me now. You have to go back to that fiancé of yours and work things out. I don't want to screw up your life, not again."  
"You never screwed up my life, Figgy…"

"Don't call me that."  
"What?"

He swallowed, his tone gruff, though his eyes told me he was in pain, "Don't call me Figgy ever again. I'm not your Figgy anymore."

"Why are you being like this?" my voice broke and the tears started coming even faster.

"No more tears," he wiped my cheeks with the back of his hands, "Be happy. For me."

I shook my head, and tightened my grip around him.

"Please, Galileo, tell me you'll come back," I pleaded desperately.

"I'll think about it."

I hugged him tighter.

He stroked my hair and whispered, "Too much love will kill you, if you can't make up your mind. Torn between the lover and the love you leave behind. You're headed for disaster  
'cause you never read the signs. Too much love will kill you every time…"

"I'm just the shadow of who I used to be, and it seems like there's no way out of this for me. I used to bring you sunshine, now all I ever do is bring you down," I mumbled, my voice muffled in his chest, not even having to think about the words, "How would it be if you were standing in my shoes? Can't you see that it's impossible to choose? No, there's no making sense of it; every way I go I'm bound to lose…oh God…this can't be good-bye."

"But it is," he smiled bitterly.

"No…it can't be," I pleaded.

He took my hands in his, and gave me one last kiss on the cheek "Good-bye, Baby Girl." With that, my Galileo Figaro left me, hands jammed in his pockets, head ducked down.

Suddenly, Abs shuddered, and I jumped, falling backward over my feet, which I had been sitting on, resulting in me lying in an undignified puddle on the floor.

"Sally," He growled. "Has Figaro left?"

I nodded. "Look, Daniel, I'm sorry, I'm so, so, sorry…"

"Save it." He snapped. "I don't want to talk about it.And don't you say a word after that. Don't you even think about talking to me. I'll talk to you when I'm good and ready. Understand?"

Without giving me a chance to reply, he stood up, swayed slightly on the spot, then turned and marched out of the front door.

I heard a yell that must have been Figgy, then the smack of a body being pressed against the wall. Then the snap, the distinctive crunch of cartilage and bone breaking. The splatter of liquid on the stone floor. In short, the unmistakable sound of someone's nose being broken. I had broken enough noses in my time to recognize the soundtrack. Commander Khashoggi's, for example.

A minute later, Abs staggered back in, and collapsed on the sofa, his left hand stained with a dark red liquid. I shuddered and turned away when I realized it was Galileo's.


	15. Hopeless

I know it's a short one...but I actually really like this chapter, tbh. Hope you do too. :)

Thank you as always for the fabulous reviews, and of course thank you to CrimsonSuspense, the beta for this, and...that's it I think. For now. lol

Still don't own WWRY...

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I'd lost her.

I'd lost my Scaramouche.

Again.

I'd lost her to a Gaga bastard who'd tamed my wild girl, and then he went and hit her. He'd hurt her, my poor Baby Girl, and he'd probably hurt her badly, judging from my personal experience with him. I touched my face, suddenly remembering how badly my nose hurt. My fingers felt wet and sticky from all the blood. It was definitely broken.

"Fuck," I yelled, punching the wall.

I loved her. I loved her so much it hurt. Literally.

Why did I have to lose her?

I needed to go for a nice, long walk. My room at the Heartbreak suddenly seemed horribly empty. I stared at my bed –our bed, once- and realized how…big… it was without her sleeping in it next to me. My eyes flickered to the big, red armchair in the corner, where she'd so painstakingly played her guitars, tuning them so they sounded just right, furiously scribbling down new chords and notes she'd strung together so she wouldn't forget them, waving me over to try out a new harmony. It hurt too much to be here. I grabbed my jacket and left, slamming the door behind me.

Everything was too blurry…or maybe too sharp. The lights were too bright and I felt dizzy in the cold night air. The snow falling on my face should have been cold but burned against the still unhealed cuts on my face.

I hugged myself as I walked, realizing I still had her scarf. I tugged at the blue-knit tails…it still smelled of her. I pressed the scarf to my nose, inhaling her lavender and thyme smell, letting it take me over. Dammit. I'd spotted some blood on it…and I couldn't bear to wash it.

"You look pretty down, buddy," a low, hoarse voice came from behind me.

"Who said that?" I spun around in search of its source. In the dim glow of the streetlight, I made out a tall, shabbily dressed man. His eyes were hollow and sunken in, his skin sallow. His brown leather coat was well-worn, though a size too big. His stance was pugnacious, his clunky-boot clad feet planted firmly on the ground, and his fists jammed in his pockets. He looked like he had five o'clock shadows, and his hair was dark, shaggy, and dirty. I knew him…well, I didn't really know him, but I'd seen him around, lurking around at night, trying to get anyone and everyone's attention. Everyone had.

"You look like you could use a pick-me up," he grinned at me, a mouth full of yellowed teeth, trying to be friendly, though the result was anything but.

I kept walking on, but he followed me, "Come on, tell me what's wrong."

"You want to know what's wrong?"

He nodded, tugging at his thick gloves.

"My girlfriend is marrying a Gaga bastard. I've lost her; I've lost my Baby Girl," I spat, "And I can't do a damn thing about it. He's going to kill me if I get anywhere near her."

He nodded, and added, "And your nose is broken."

"Who do you think did it?" I asked bitterly.

"Ouch…sounds like you really loved this girl…" he nodded again, looking me over.

"Love her, not loved," I snapped, "I will _always_ love her."

"Okay, no need to get all worked up, buddy," he raised his hands, "I get it; you love the girl. Any chance you can get her back?"

"I told you, her fiancé is going to kill me if I get near her!" I cried, "Fuck!" I slammed my fist against the wall, my shoulders starting to shake. Why did I have to lose her?

"Sounds like you've lost everything, haven't you?"

"Yeah…I have," my voice sounded strangely empty.

"You don't think you'll ever be happy again, huh?" his eerie green eyes looked into mine, like they could tell everything I was thinking.

"What do you know?" I snapped.

"I know that I could offer you a solution," he grinned again, "A way to be happy. A way to achieve pure happiness."

"You're saying you'll get rid of her fiancé?"

He chuckled, "No…I'm offering you another alternative. Something that's more popular than people think. You'll feel sheer euphoria."

"What is it?" I asked, hungrily. God…anything to make me feel better. Anything. I couldn't take hurting like this.

He laughed, "I can tell you, but it comes with a price."

"I've got money to burn, and nothing left to lose."

"Then I think I can help you, my friend."


End file.
